Learning To Love You More




Assignment #11
Photograph a scar and write about it.

Na-Young Ahn
Cardiff, UK



This is a picture of my index finger on my left hand. I got this scar in December 1992, I think. It might have been 1993. I was living with friends and we decided celebrate Christmas differently this particular year. I couldn't get home to my folks in Newcastle because I was on duty over Christmas week in a residential care home. So I didn't have to feel guilty about not spending Christmas with my folks. My friend Annette is Jewish so she was under no pressure on that score and Al's parents lived in Oxford, where we all lived, so we incorporated them into the proceedings. Her parents had divorced when she was little. They got on fine but this was the first Christmas they'd spent together in 20 years. We also invited a girl from my work who's parents had emigrated to Australia, my boss, who I didnt really like but seemed quite lonely and an older woman I met on a massage day course who was newly divorced (her adult children were disgusted and sided with their father). Jewish Annette made delicious food and we played games. So it wasnt really that different in the end. But it really felt like it was.
I got the scar because I used a really sharp carpet knife to whittle the end of a tree to fit it in a stand. It was the early 90s. People didnt feel bad about cutting down trees for Christmas then. I like my scar. It still stings sometimes but it brings back a nice memory.