HNT - Fragility

Last week HNT was suspended as many reflected on the loss of a friend (I was tempted to say virtual friend, because so many friends who meet through blogs and other internet connections might never meet in real life -- but the way that they touch each other's lives and share themselves is anything but virtual). Betchacantguesswho was a real friend to so many people in the blogosphere and her loss affected many -- yes, many who never met her in real life but whose hearts she certainly touched.

Last week many bloggers reflected on the fragility of human life. While reading the many wonderful tributes to this special woman I paused to think about all those wonderful people around the world whom I consider friend, somethings people who I "met" by clicking through the blog of a friend of a friend.

The internet, and blogging is quite wonderful that way. In this virtual world, we connect and share pieces of ourselves, and somehow, we make connections and friends. It's an incredibly powerful feeling. Through blogs we share our ups, downs, and often personal things that are sometimes even difficult to share on a face to face basis.

That's why this week I've decided to expose a fragility, share a wound. Maybe not as eloquently as I've seen so many HNT participants do. But an exposure nonetheless. And that's what HNT is all about, a celebration of exposure.


This past weekend while Alexander and I were taking down the Christmas trees (yes, I said trees -- there's one in the living room that Francine decorates with a sharp eye and the one Alexander and I decorate with Spider-Man and other fun ornaments), I sliced my hand open -- it was a thin, very fine and clean cut, likely made my something sharp and metallic, almost looking like it was made by a blade. I'm not sure exactly on what I cut myself, or how or even when. I just noticed I was bleeding, and it didn't hurt until much later.

I was just glad that it was me and not my son who was cut during the Christmas decoration cleanup efforts. Throughout the week I've looked at the wound, stared at it, reflected how our bodies hurt, how our bodies heal. And as I stared at this cut on my hand that I know will heal and I will forget, I wonder at the scars on all the hearts out there that will eventually move on, but will never completely heal from the loss of a friend.