Learning To Love You More




Assignment #11
Photograph a scar and write about it.

Katie R.
Statesboro, Georgia USA



These pictures are of my fathers' hand... or lack thereof. When he was in his 20's he was working for a manufacturing company. He worked on an assembly line, pushing material through a "chopper". The chopper would come down at a certain timed interval and whatever he'd just pushed under there, it would cut it in half. The day of this accident, he pushed some material under the chopper and it came down to quick. His hand was still under there and the blades cut his hand straight off. After being rushed to the emergency room, he was told by the doctors that they could not put the hand back on. The scars have changed over time, gradually growing lighter and less noticeable, but there are times when I think that it is just because I've always known him without his hand. Even now, when I look through the eyes of someone who doesn't know him, it still is hard to think about all of the events that occurred and to see it the final product. That is my dad, he's not deformed. He learned to deal with his incapacity and became a stronger man, learning to do things with one hand rather than two. He now does more things better with one hand than I can with two.