Getting a tattoo is not something I EVER thought I would do. For starters, Bear was kind of against anyone getting a tattoo (but he was in the navy in the 60s and tattoos were a little… frowned upon?). He was against the kids getting them, but when they turned 18 he told them that it was their decision. He told them he wouldn’t pay to support the habit, but he couldn’t stop them.
Both kids have several.
Both view their art very differently. Squirrel has developed hers as things that are very much how she defines herself. She got one yesterday that is a butterfly surrounding a semi-colon. The tattooist thought it was profound enough (and turned out well enough) that he’s going to post it… somewhere… not sure where.
There have been times over the last few years that the idea of getting one has played at the back of my mind. But knowing how he looked at people (women especially) who have tattoos made it a thing that I never EVER voiced out loud.
With him passing in October, I have thought more than once about getting one that could pay tribute to him. One that would leave a permanent reminder to me that he is always with me. Saturday very suddenly it was something that I HAD to do.
There is irony in unexpected money and prices that are WAY cheaper than anticipated.
Sunday, I found out what time the tattoo parlor opened (is it still called a tattoo parlor?), and we were there (me and my moral support) and I asked for a bear (or similar) that I found online. I asked for a price. The price wasn’t horrible (not nearly what I expected) and suddenly I was getting my tattoo.
Yes, I have to be WAY more careful than normal people so nothing gets infected.
Yes, I have to consider where they are going to put my infusion going forward.
Yes, I feel INCREDIBLY guilty taking the money that should have gone elsewhere to do this.
No, I don’t think Bear would have approved of my getting a tattoo even if it is a memorial tattoo for him. (the guy who did it said that of late the amount of work that he has done has been predominantly memorial tattoos… yay Covid).
Yes, I spend an awful lot of time looking at it and thinking of Bear watching over me… and that was an awful lot of the point of the tattoo.
I was really hoping that I wouldn’t wake up with a lot of regrets. I regret taking the money for something for just me. I regret that he would probably not approve. But I also know that he said that he wanted me to have as happy a life as I can have until we are together again… and… this makes me very centered and happy.
I never dreamed how well this would come out. The artist has only been at this for two years but he has incredible talent. I don’t know if he will ever know what his work means to me. I sincerely doubt he will ever know what it means to me. The world has felt so ugly and cold for so long (not just winter, not just politics, not just… not just… not just…) and I have felt so much like a shell and guilty for doing anything for me for SO long… THIS… this is just for me and it is part of my redefinition.
And… I have core dumped for a bit too long… and it’s time to get my proverbial shit together.
Love and Light