A little bit broken

 Three weeks ago, we had ice.

I know we had ice because it was the day I slipped over, obviously with some grace and style, and as I put down my hand to break my fall I cracked a bone, just below the elbow.

I am still in a little bit of pain but it is easing and movement is returning.

I wonder if I will ever fully recover?

Who knows? There is no follow up appointment to attend, I have no cast on, so there is no need to return, that seems to be the way these days.

So many people have told me their own broken arm stories – I have two now – my first broken bone was caused playing football and putting my arm up to stop the ball and save a goal. Nothing spectacular, just a game in the garden with eldest son who was about ten at the time. Andrew was still alive, off shore at the time and he obviously had no sympathy. His own broken arm story was much more dramatic.

In time I healed and my broken bone anecdote is pretty much forgotten except by me.

I’m not sure if I’ll heal so well this time being older and generally more fragile. I was told I might not ever be able to straighten my arm fully but then again it’s only been 3 weeks and it could take up to six to mend and months to properly feel better.

If I were a Japanese pot I would be mended with gold.

The Japanese art of Kintsugi,
what is broken is mended with gold to make it stronger

I may have only ever broken two bones but there are other scars that I carry, physical ones and the emotional cracks of a broken heart from being widowed. With gold embellishment I would truly glitter and be worth a fortune.

But we don’t cover our bruises and breaks with gold, we stoically carry on with a stiff upper lip pretending all is well or we take our grievances out on everyone becoming grumpy and intolerant.

I went to see “A Man Called Otto” today, the latest film version of A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman. I’ve read the book and seen the original film in Swedish with subtitles. This version with Tom Hanks is faithful to the story and as you would expect with such an accomplished star, excellent. I’m glad that Otto, as he’s been re-Christened, gets a chance to shine and reach a whole new audience. I’ve not cried and laughed at a film so much in a long time.

After the death of his wife, Otto is a broken man who contemplates joining her. Thankfully his meticulous suicide plans are foiled time and time again.

The beauty of Backman’s storytelling is how he peels away the layers of the story, never giving away too much too soon. Each revelation comes as a surprise, adding a new understanding of his complex characters.

I remember thinking how much Ove/Otto was like Andrew, grumpy, short tempered, with no time for idiots, except he has a big heart, broken and mended with gold. In the right circumstances his generosity is quite overwhelming.

Perhaps a broken arm doesn’t really compare to a broken heart, although, you need to be on the receiving end of the generosity – I can manage most things, I’m still stubbornly independent and self-reliant but I do need friends and family to give me lifts, as I’ve not contemplated driving yet. Accepting help can be a difficult lesson to learn.

We are all a little bit broken or cracked one way of another. Hopefully the process of mending gives us a chance to see things differently, an appreciation of all the other cracked pots in this world. 

cracked pots photo by Constance S Jackson 

And with some understanding maybe we can all reach out and make the world a better place.

Happy 2023!