I Noticed

I noticed something about the cashier at the store the other day. I didn't stare and she didn't see me looking, but I noticed because I understand. I noticed the faint scars on her arm and I know what they are from. I watched her operate the transaction with her left hand. It was very dominant. Her right arm bore the familiar (to me) scars that probably seem insignificant to most people who notice them. But not to me. I understand. I understand A LOT. I'm not usually very talkative or sociable, but I did go out of my way to smile, and be polite and kind. Because I understand. Rock on with you, lady. I'm glad the scars on your flesh are old. Mine are finally getting old, too. And no, this is NOT a 'time heals all wounds' post. I don't write those. Life is much too complex for such bullshit.