Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Waiting for another dent

It is amazing how much I learn from watching Disney movies with my kids. Maybe because we do so much of it these days (go ahead and judge me). Or maybe it is because I am the one who loves Disney movies. As I type, I am watching Cars 2 and Little Man is no where to be found.

The Little Mermaid taught me how to flirt without saying a word (which is why I don't let the girl child watch it). Beauty and the Beast taught me that, regardless of what everything in middle school leads you to believe, smart girls sometimes do end up with the best looking guy in the room, (which is why I do let the girl child watch it).

I'm not sure if Cars taught me anything, except maybe that I should be proud of my small town heritage. And I was almost sure that the only thing Cars 2 was going to teach me was that some movies should not have sequels. And I would stand by that.

Except for one line, right in the middle of the movie. One line that I might not have paid any attention to. I don't want to spoil the movie for you, but Mater ends up being a spy (gasp). As they are fitting him for his disguise, his partner tries to fix a dent so the disguise will fit better. He stops her. 

He says (and I'm paraphrasing because Little Man is back in the room and won't let me rewind), "You can't fix that dent. I got everyone of these dents with my best friend and it is way to valuable."

There is something to be learned from Cars 2 after all!

My childhood wasn't, ummmm, safe. No car seats. No seat belts. No bike helmets. No net around the trampoline, which gave us a clear shot to jump off the roof. Head first. I won't say we actually lit the house on fire. Because I had nothing to do with that. That was all my brother. I did lite him on fire once, but only because he told me to.

So I guess you could say, I got a lot of dents, only we called them scars and broken bones.

Then came high school. And boys. More dents, only this time they weren't physical scars, but emotional ones.

But one thing didn't change. Everytime I got a new dent, I had a friend right there with me. Whether it was the boys across the street helping us make a roller coaster off the back deck, or my best friend in high school crying with me over my first broken heart. My college roommate, the sister I never had, helping get out of an abusive relationship. My best friend since third grade crying across the miles with me over trips to the ER and crazy health problems that only the two of us could possibly understand.

My husband, patiently waiting for me to come back from depression after we lost our first baby.

All these dents, each one made with a friend by my side. Each one special to me. And I wouldn't want any of them painted over or fixed. Because each dent reminds me who I am and how I got here. And more importantly, who I got here with.

Every scar, broken heart, wrinkle, and gray hair (okay, so maybe I do paint over the grey hair), made me exactly who I am. And I've been blessed to have a lot of amazing friends who got me here.

Cars 2 taught me not only to be proud of my dents, but to look forward to them. They are way too valuable to fix.

And also that they should not make a Cars 3.

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