Roots

Today I hit the side of my knee against a desk and it hurt. I thanked a God that I don’t believe in for the pain that radiated out. I could feel the outside of my knee. My nerve damage is healing.

I’ve fallen and I’ve gotten back up. I’ve been cut and I’ve scabbed over. Yet, I couldn’t quite convince myself that my nerves would grow. They are the roots that had been severed. I was completely disconnected from a part of my body for months. I didn’t know I could miss a small circle of skin that seemed too inconsequential until I lost it. But now I have it back and I’m so grateful.

Throughout life, we grow roots in everything we touch, in places we’d never expect. My roots are miles below Uni and wrapped around my house. They are burrowed deep under the rubber base of the Mill Creek Elementary playground and they are nestled against the skin of my friends. They pump nostalgia into my soul as I think of where they still connect me to and tingle as I move about. My roots are my worldly nerves. Each place that my roots reach is like the surface of my skin.

We have so many roots, however, it’s impossible for some not to be broken. We walk too far and they begin to fray like old rope. They snap and we lose touch. When they break it’s like that circle on my knee. You reach to touch it and feel absolutely nothing. No matter how hard you press, the connection’s gone.

When our roots break, it hurts. They are living tissue tying us to something of significance. So, as they snap we feel it. When a friendship ends we can feel the hurt that accompanies it. Eventually, however, we forget. After a month of no feeling on the side of the knee, I forgot until I avidly reached down to touch it or someone else did.

I’ve struggled a lot this year trying to keep my roots thick and healthy, but with all of the work and stress, I’ve felt them fraying. I’ve touched those empty spaces and felt cold. I let myself get too used to that lonely feeling. No more, however, now I’m determined to mend the breaks! I’m going to water them and cover them in plenty of nutritious soil (I’m done drawing out this analogy now).

I’m just saying that even though this online diary of mine is coming to an end, I’m going to keep thinking about what’s important to me. Currently, that is reconnecting with the people I’ve let slip away. As my nerves are healing, so will my roots!

Hoco!

            I love school dances and I know that sounds silly, but they’re fun. They’re a night when we all get together in a room, tell each other we look snazzy, and dance and sing to inappropriate songs. However, as I’ve mentioned, I’m recovering from ACL reconstruction surgery. I was really nervous I was going to have to miss homecoming in addition to having already missed my favorite dance of the year- Howdy Hop. 

In the couple weeks beforehand, I was still struggling to keep my knee stable with each step. I couldn’t turn in a circle without landing in pain. I was so worried I’d miss out on yet another last chance of high school. Thankfully, however, all of my physical therapy was paying off as the dance neared. I bought the cutest romper I’ve ever worn for any dance, I got new gold heels, and I even bought myself new makeup!

I can’t say it was the best dance I’ve ever been to. I still can’t jump or do much on my left leg that I normally would at a dance, but I got to do something I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to do. Going from not being able to walk to suddenly dancing with all my closest friends in less than a three-month span was pretty amazing. My knee is far from healed but I feel as though my hope was brought up way higher than before. 

My world is full of a lot of stress and uncertainty currently, so having a night that was all about dressing up and having a good time was a welcome a relief. It’s shocking how therapeutic standing in a hot, dark room, shouting inappropriate lyrics into the air as faculty and parents look on disapprovingly can be. 

That night, with a throbbing knee and a full heart, I teared up in bed thinking how lucky I am to have great, supportive friends. We gathered in my basement and watched Planet Earth II (y’know, as teenagers do) and laughed and talked until it got late. A few girls stayed over, we stayed up together until far after the time change. Then, we rescued a dog in Centennial Park and got donuts in the morning. Senior year isn’t exactly what I was expecting it to be. It’s hard, it’s scary, plus it’s largely devoted to my recovery. But it’s also full of deepening friendships, excitement, and hope. 

Me 'n' My Cute Date

So thanks, homecoming, for reminding me a little extra what I have to look forward to.