Scars

One of the absolute best part about moving here is having family dinner together. We just barely got a dinner table a couple months ago. Before, we would watch TV with our dinner plates on our laps. Not exactly how I wanted things so I'm happy we finally have enough room for a table!  Dinners together were something I really loved when I was growing up even if we only managed to do Sunday dinner with everyone.  I know it is important tradition to establish right now.  Last night, we were watching Winnie eat and listening to her babble at us as we finished our food.  Suddenly Winnie stopped to look at her hands.  She kept turning them front to back very slowly carefully examining them.  She bit her little pinky a bit and kept stretching her fingers.  I nudged Dayton but he was already watching closely.  We both stared at her in amazement.  She was so curious about them.  Then, she touched her scars on her right hand.  My throat got tight. I wondered if her webbing that is creeping up again is bothering her and causing problems when we grabs thing.  I've tried to be very good at expecting her to do everything.  Not in a forced way I just don't think about her not being able to grab something I just subconsiously expect her to do it.  I keep telling myself it's too early for her to notice her hands.  Part of me is trying to not read too much into it and take it at face value.  She is just noticing she has lines by her pinkies!  Which is probably the case, but I wasn't anticipating her to realize her hands are different at all until she was told by someone else.  Now I'm thinking about how we talk to her when the time comes.  Idealy,  I didn't really ever want to have a discussion with her about it because I didn't want her to feel set apart in any way or feel that it was a big deal to us, as her parents.  But at the same time, I would rather teach her how special Heavenly Father made her before a someone at school gets a chance to do the opposite.  I'm thinking I have few more months to decide how to go about it though. :) Her left pinky is significantly shorter and a bit thicker than all the others and doesn't have any mobility.  Kids in Rondalee's preschool have pointed it out a few times and it doesn't upset me like the way last night upset me.  I want her to be innocent and oblivious as long as possible.  I want to shelter her from her physical imperfections as well as the imperfections of others.  Because it doesn't matter.  She could have ten short fingers and toes and it doesn't change her heart or her spirit.  I hope one day she'll sit next to someone who's doesn't look like everyone else and say, "I'm different too." I hope she can help someone else feel understood. I know it will help her see the world differently.  She'll be able to empathize with people in a way that many other children can't. Rondalee thought we should find a litle nick name for her scars instead of owies or scars and something like "angel kisses" for freckles.  I loved that idea.  I'm grateful when we have dinner just us three.  I'm glad Dayton didn't miss it.  He hugged me in the middle of the dark hall before I went to bed and said, "I feel like something's wrong honey."  I tried not to cry--too hard.  Heavenly Father always knows how to gently remind me how blessed we are.  He sends me peace and I remember how so many other children have worse scenarios.  But last night, when I was upset, I felt alot of comfort in just crying too.