a thing about being 40+ that makes me sad

So, I was heating up a frozen pizza and accidentally touched my arm to the top rack of the oven.

There's a red spot now on my right forearm, don't think it's that bad but it might be.

And I was remembering another burn, it was when I was in college, Junior year, I was ironing the hem on a grey Goodwill skirt I'd bought and then cut off to be a mini-skirt, and I planned to wear it to go see X in Cleveland (just saw them again in Chicago recently, all of us a bit older but that's a different story). I had a very small single room in a suite that year, and I was ironing the skirt on the seat of the desk chair. So the set-up was kind of awkward. While reaching across to straighten the hem my arm touched the edge of the iron because of the crowded arrangements, and I burned a mark on my arm. Then, if I recall correctly, moshing to X I tore part of the scab off, and there's a white scar there to this day.

So, reminded of that scar, with this present burn from just a few minutes ago, I found it on my arm, just in case this new burn makes a matching one (probably won't though because it's not that deep), but I recalled the emotion of the iron-mini-skirt burn, which was much different from today's one.

I remember being absolutely horrified. I remember a sense of guilt and dread and failure, I had scarred this body and it was going to carry this scar FOREVER, for a momentary lapse. Agh! How could I bear it, how could I be forgiven? That was the emotion from the first burn.

And now, looking at the white mark on my arm, and thinking back to that poor young girl's worry (a girl who hadn't even started her life at all, really), it just brings tears to my eyes. Because, honey, there will be SO many more scars. Living life, you just accumulate them, you can't help it.

This makes me sad, thinking about her and the big deal the other burn was. But also sanguine, because, you know, this new burn, scar or not, whatever.