He handed me the spanner and proceeded to watch my every move with great care. I dissembled the carrier and then the real work began. A certain type of sanding that removes the more superficial marks and causes fingers to turn a rather questionable shade of ash and causes the elbow to ache, followed by semi-toxic rust remover applied by a teeny weeny little brush.
This bike has surely seen many rainy days. It has clearly weathered several storms but still shows signs of damage. It's standing strong but not without scars.
We're like this. We withstand terrible trials and then neglect the signs of scarring, because after all we did make it through. I'm determined that it's worth working on the little rough bits left over because I'm convinced we can not only make it through the fire, we can find ourselves even more refined, even better than before. We can take a look at what we've lost and take heart in what we've learnt.
It's worth dealing with, I promise. It's worth recognising what has hurt and it's worth taking time to heal the wounds.
Please, work at the rust.