becoming the woman God needs me to be
i used to hate my nose. i blamed it on matthew.
he hit me in the face with a basketball in fifth grade. on purpose.
since then i have a bump and a divot.
and i swear with each passing that year that is just. keeps. getting. BIGGER.
the nose of a one hundred percent polish man. who loved his wife unconditionally. who called me his peanut. who picked me up from school and knew the name of every teacher and secretary. who could and did fix anything in the house that was broken. who built me tables, stools and chairs as a child so i could play with things at just the right height. this nose belonged to a man who served our country with honor during world war two. who taught everyone the polka at family weddings. who inspired me to take german in college. who loved a good game of cards. but loved all of us more. this nose is my Papa’s nose. and so it is beautiful.
i can tell when something has been in the fridge just a little too long. or if Dad is making french toast when i visit. it wakes me up in the morning to the scent of fresh brewed coffee from my loving husband. it shockingly reminds me i forgot to turn off the gas burner on the stove. and without it i would not be able to taste anything i cook. it helps me look like a pro when tasting wine. it allows the exhaust from a lawnmower to bring back memories of snowmobiling. just the hint of the scent of aqua net and i’m sitting on my Busia’s lap getting one of her famous hugs. it can smell the rain approaching, and the fresh pine trees in the middle of the northwoods. and it tells me if the woman behind me is wearing far too much perfume. but it is working. and that is beautiful.
sometimes i retake a selfie to minimize it (or hide it behind a coffee cup). sometimes i play around with photoshop just to see what i would look like if it was smaller. less bumpy. less dented. but you know it never looks quite right. i never quite look like me.
i am thankful it is working so i can experience the world as God intended it with all of the scents and smells, the good and the bad, the warnings they convey, and the memories they conjure.
i am thankful i have my Papa’s nose. he was a beautiful man, the most loving grandfather, and i miss him.
So today God I am thankful for my nose. Because if i look in the mirror, at just the right angle, the Polish shines through.