Her Hideous Scar
Once I saw her without her shirt or bra
revealing the scar where her surgeon
first took her diseased breast then
sloppily gathered excess skin in a
quick running stitch of sutures
leaving her hideously deformed
It’s no wonder I seldom saw her smile
De is running the show at dVerse Poets Pub today for Quadrille Monday where the word of the day is scar. The pub opens at noon PST so head on over and check out some of the great 44-word poems offered by patrons today.
My poem today is a rewrite of part of a description of my mom that I wrote this past week in my writing group.
The effect of having a breast removed can be devastating psychologically!
They don’t smile after that. That is True Linda!
Oh dear! I thought most surgeions would take more care
I think things were maybe different in the early 70s.
I think this is so beautifully put and reveals the true trauma of some of these scars. XXXX much love.
My foster mother and sister are both mastectomy and breast cancer survivors. Sometimes the illness of a loved one is harder on the those that watch, because we cannot fix or heal or take away the illness. And sometimes the remaining scars are a hard thing to view, they remind us of that illness, of all that was before that is no more. I think for your mom(and my foster mom and sister) that scar is their badge of strength, of bravery; proof that they are still here despite the cancer that threatened them. Sending hugs and wishes for continued strength to you and your mom.
Thanks. My mom lived another 13 years after the breast cancer, but she died of colon cancer when I was 23. Writing about her illness and scar has helped me understand her better. I’m so glad your foster mom and sister were able to beat it. Hold them close while you can.
Oh this is so raw and real to read. Difficult words to see. My daughter-in-law is one of the 20% survivors of Triple Negative Breast Cancer…..3+ years. I pray every day for her continued health. Your words mark the reality of this insidious disease. I shall include your mom in my prayers today.
It will be 29 years in January since my mom died, but since the one who hears our prayers is timeless I thank you for lifting her up. I will pray for peace and healing for your daughter-in-law.
Some scars seem to go much deeper than skin. Sounds like your mom’s went right to her soul.
I’m only now realizing how true that is.
This is soo touching.. sigh some scars are harder to bear 🙁
Powerful poem, Linda. I am imagining what was not written.
A scar that wounds hearts…sad reality, excellent writing!
Wow. This wallops a punch in so few words.
Oh my… that hit hard.
This hits me hard as my mom right now will undergo breast surgery ~ I think its important to brace yourself and myself to seeing beyond the scars ~ Its a challenge to go on and even smile ~
I hope your mom will have the option of reconstructive surgery to help heal the physical and emotional scars of the surgery. Back in the 70s my mom didn’t have that option.
I’m with Glenn – I want to reach out and hug too. That final line really hits home.
A very deep quadrille with a lot of power and it reads like the essence from a much bigger story.
Thanks. It is from a bigger story. It’s just a little piece of the memoir I’m writing, though as I write I’m learning it’s a bigger piece than I once thought.
Cuts to the chase. Scars within scars here.
True. I never really thought about my mom’s hidden scars until I started writing about her external ones. They go hand in hand.
Best wishes. I like your quadrille. Some scars scar more than the skin.
Breast reconstructive surgery can do wonders for self-esteem. Your poem makes me wince, & want to reach out & hug.
Thanks. Although it was hard to see, I’m glad for the memory of my mom’s scar because it has helped me understand her so much better.
I think some scars are hard to bear… maybe survival is not enough sometimes… this really cuts deep.
So sad, true, and well written in a deceptively simple quadrille.
It’s always an interesting exercise to take something I’ve written as prose and reduce it to 44 words. Some details of the bigger story were left out, but it was good to find the essence of it.
That’s the beauty of these tiny poems, Linda. And yours is indeed beautiful.
Linda, this cuts deep, especially that last line. Sometimes, unfortunately, our scars do define us, for awhile. I hope this particular one became a mark of survival.
I guess you’ll just have to wait for my memoir to find that out.