Even my collarbone is crooked, broken when I was born.
Aimee, while having several sinus surgeries in the time I knew her, carried most scars in silence--or defiance. She had near-constant back pain from an accident in college. She developed neuropathy in her right wrist while clicking away on a mouse as a counselor at Free State. None of these things slowed her down. Aimee was stubborn--defiant--and bold. She thought she could conquer anything.
She always climbed into the middle of mountain streams to sit on a rock during our many hikes. I always told her to be careful--worried she would slip and fall on the smooth, mossy rocks. She never did.
And I was the one with scars... Funny how life works.
I have new scars now, the kind which don't show on my face. Aimee left them, and I won't trade them for anything.
For the multimedia inclined, take this message to heart:
To conclude, in the immortal words of Captain Lance Murdoch (from The Simpsons)"
It's always good to see young people taking an interest in danger. Now a lot of people are going to be telling you you're crazy, and maybe they're right. But the fact of the matter is: Bones heal. Chicks dig scars. And the United States of America has the best doctor-to-daredevil ratio in the world! --
...upon hearing that Bart wants to do a dangerous stunt, ``Bart the Daredevil''