Birthmark
Rose and Heart by Carole Day. Felt tip pens and brushes.
When I was born I had a bright red birthmark on my upper left arm. I don’t really remember it much, but my mother said that other children teased me about it when I was young and were unkind. My mother tried to get it removed, but the doctors said it would fade of its own accord over time, and if they injected it there would be a permanent scarring, like mottled skin, so she let it be.
One day, when we were living in Molesey, I was playing in the garden, I did so a lot, on my own, making up stories, talking to myself, and I pricked my arm, where the birthmark was, on a rose bush. As the doctors had predicted the prick made a permanent scar of raised mottled skin. It was in the shape of a heart and I bear it to this day, I saw it as a kind of sign; I have always been in love with this beautiful world.
Walking out in the garden, aged about 4 probably, in the bright summer sunshine, on a lovely day, I remember thinking “everything is perfect now, but it never will be again.”
In a way I was right – I started school and things began to unravel; life, conscious life, began with all its nuances, disappointments, struggles, kindnesses, creativity and ultimately patience, endurance and love. It all depends on the path you take.
