My Tattoos and The Meanings They Don't Hold

I was in a Bath and Body once when one of the sales associates noticed I had a cupcake tattooed on my foot. “Oh there must be a fun story there”, she said. “Ohhhh yea”, I said. “I was in Vegas…”

After realizing those four little words were my whole story, she had good laugh and went about her business.

You see that was easier to say than the truth. It’s way easier to joke about what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas. It’s easier than, I lost two of the closest people to me in a span of nine months. I spent a year and a half watching the people I loved most deteriorate. I watched them in hospitals or nursing homes, or hospice, and in one case chemo centers. And I watched them die. After that I wanted to memorialize them, and I spent two years trying to figure out how. I came to the idea of getting my first tattoo for them. Then the question became what it should be. At first, I was going to have footprints tattooed on my foot because I always liked the idea of the “Footprints in the Sand” poem, even if I didn’t have strong inclination towards religion. For an awfully long time I had decided that was going to be the tattoo, footprints on my foot.

We had a trip planned to Vegas and I toyed with the idea of getting it there, to make it more fun. I had already decided against it when we got the notification that the hotel we would be staying at was opening a tattoo shop the day we were arriving. Obviously I took that as sign and made an appointment immediately. We were about two weeks out when I was researching tattoos and came across a cupcake and stars design a girl had on her foot. I loved it. It was so bright and happy. It wasn’t serious or meaningful or… sad.

A few days later I decided that the best way I could honor those two people was not to permanently mark my skin with a painful reminder that I had lost them. If I got the footprints tattoo it wouldn’t remind me of them, it would have only reminded me of them when they were sick, reminded me that they were gone. I was lucky, I had so much to remember them by as they were. So, I decided I was going to get a cupcake because it made me happy. It still reminds me of them in a way. But not because they’re gone, because they made me happy too. Because I was inspired to go out and do this thing I never thought I’d have the guts to do because they made me value time more, and I didn’t want to waste that time.

That’s the real story behind my first tattoo, but can you imagine the Bath and Body lady's face if I had broke out into that story. So yea, I went with "I was in Vegas..." Can ya blame me?

When I got that tattoo, my friend got one with me. When he died years later I almost did the same thing. One of the last discussions we had was about what tattoo we would get next, and at that time I was obsessed with watercolor. When he died, I found a watercolor design I loved and a quote from a song he loved and made the appointment. The night before I was supposed to go in, I emailed the artist to let her know we would be scrapping the quote. I realized the same thing I did all those years ago when I got the first one. It would only remind me they were gone, not of who they were. Now I have this watercolor tattoo of a Twilight Sky and the silhouette of trees. It reminds me of the places that bring me the most peace. And when I look at the dots of blues and purples around it, the splashes of watercolor, I do think about the night I stayed up late with a friend excitedly looking at tattoos and reminiscing about when we got ours. It’s not for him, a quote from one of his favorite songs isn’t there, but when it’s right it still reminds me of him during a happier time.

It became clear to me that I would never be able to do a traditional memorial tattoo. It was personal and not everyone feels that way, but for me it didn’t work. I always remember the time my aunt said she wanted the flowers now, not when she was gone. A few months later when she passed unexpectedly all I could think about when I saw the flowers at her funeral was, she wasn’t there to see them. I finally truly understood what she was saying. It was a valuable lesson to let those you care about know while you can.

So, when it came to tattoo number 3 I asked my mom to choose. It could be her “Love and hugs, Mom” signature she wrote on the sweet cards, or the “Love and hugs, Mommie Dearest” one she wrote on the funny cards. Thankfully, she went with the latter, an inside joke we’ve has since I was little. I had even picked two possible locations for the tattoo on my arm for her to decide between. She had a hand in every part of the decision making on this one. It will always be something we did together. Something I got to do for her when it still mattered the most.

(Quick note, to be clear my Mom is totally alive. I realize this story makes it sound like being related to me is very much the kiss of death. It is not… I don’t think…)

Lastly my little MN outline on my wrist… well that one was just for me. I’m a Minnesota girl, there’s nowhere I’d rather call home. Plus, I thought if I ever became an unexpected thirty something rock star that can’t sing it would look really good when I held a mic.

There you have it, the meaning behind my meaningless tattoos.

So, until next time… Let those important folks in your life know just how much they mean to you. The sooner the better.

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