The permanent impermanence of a broken foot
I got a little souvenir last week from Spain that I didn’t even have to buy.
Some souvenirs we get after the trip.
Last week, after I’d been home for more than two weeks, I finally went to see a doctor about a foot injury I got during my last few days in Spain.
I rolled my foot on a small rock on a hike in the mountains south of Granada, and rather than go see a doctor there, which I should have done, I hobbled around for two weeks before finally getting it checked out in Austin.
The break on the fifth metatarsal was clear on the X-ray, but it took another week to finally see a specialist to find out that it wasn’t going to require surgery. Just a lot of patience and a walking boot.
I haven’t been in much pain, but the discomfort of not knowing was unpleasant.
Much more unpleasant than another souvenir I got, ironically, on the same day as the X-ray.
My dear friend (and tattoo artist) Bart Willis leaves Austin for four months every year, so when I emailed him from Spain to request an appointment for my next tattoo, I knew I’d have to try to see him in June or else wait until October.
When I know what tattoo I want next, the idea generally comes to me very clearly and without much effort. When you know, you know, you know.
On this trip to Spain, when I saw the outline of the castle in Alicante that comforted me every day during my year there and thought “that would make a really great tattoo,” the decision was already made.
So, we booked our appointment for noon on June 13. When I finally decided to schedule the X-ray for my foot, the only appointment they had was two hours before.
A tattoo and a broken foot, on the same day. Lucky me.
As Bart and I sat together, talking about all the wonderful curves, shades and distinctions in life, we shared some ideas about permanence.
We think of tattoos as one of the most permanent decisions in life, but there are plenty of people who get them removed or covered up. And when we die, we take them with us, so they aren’t really any more permanent than any of us.
A broken bone heals, but does the body ever really forget that crack in the skeleton?
Plenty of people say that their once-broken bones tell them when a storm is approaching. Forever. My step-daughter told me that she broke her foot in high school running track, and now she has one foot that’s half a size bigger than the other. Permanently.
I’m not sure what will be permanent from this foot injury, but I do know it has already become part of the memory of this family adventure we took. Right now, it has an outsized place in my recollection of the whole experience, but I know that might fade with time.
But it is a souvenir, no less.
I can’t resist looking up word origins when I’m grasping to understand a concept with a little more nuance, and this morning, I found out that the French word “souvenir” comes from the Latin “subvenīre.” “Venire” means “to come” and “sub,” “from below.”
To come from below.
These souvenirs — a trinket, a tattoo, a postcard, a fracture — bring up something from below. Memories of another time and place and, also, the people we were then.
I asked Frank what he thought it meant.
He said: “I hope you come again"
Happy almost-weekend, readers!
I’m delighted to report that The Feminist Kitchen zines have arrived, and the first batch have gone out in the mail. Paid subscribers will be receiving them over the next week or two, and I’m so excited to share this latest iteration of the newsletter with you.
If you want to share your thoughts about the zine, feel free to respond to any of these emails or tag me on Instagram @broylesa or using the hashtag #thefeministkitchen.
As I’ve been writing little notes in each of these packages, I am overwhelmed with gratitude as I think about all of your support over the years.
Two years ago, when I left The Job and stepped foot in totally uncharted territory, I couldn’t have imagined that I’d be publishing a print zine and mailing it to so many of year, but here I am, up to my ears in stamps and washi tape, making that little dream come true.
I hope you enjoy thinking about your souvenirs a little differently after reading this week’s post. And I’ll be back next with more.
Thank you!
Addie
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That is a very interesting tattoo!