First Tattoo

This past weekend Granddaughter turned eighteen – that magic age for getting certain things you have waited for so long to own. It was a good day to get her first tattoo because suddenly at eighteen it becomes a legal birthday gift from Grandpa and Grandma. For a long time she has known what it would be: A semicolon followed by a heartbeat.

semicolon with heartbeat

She explains it like this: You know how when a writer ends a sentence but then decides to go on writing? Rather than a period, you can use a semicolon. That’s what the semicolon tattoo means – you have decided not to end the sentence but to write another and go on living. I heard her telling the tattoo artist what it meant and I was pleased by his sincere response. He liked the image and thought it had great meaning, but he wanted to give her some advice and I heard him repeat it at least two times. “Remember,” he said, “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” The phrase was rather like a sound bite from a therapist or the title of a Ted Talk, but what an unlikely setting! I guess I don’t need to say my heart was grinning from ear to ear as I listened to this exchange.

"Suicide: a permanent solution to a temporary problem"

I have always believed that for many tattoos hold a special meaning and purpose for the person who has them. The painful procedure that accompanies a tattoo can be a signal, a sign, that I am alive. I am not numb to life. (I’ve heard young people talk about feeling numb to the world, of wondering if life is an illusion or worth living.) Physical pain can actually stir hope in someone whose life has been filled with difficulties or depression. A tattoo can be a permanent reminder of an event or a love that imparts deep meaning. It tells the world “I have survived.” It is a reminder to the self to go on living even when things are hard.

Living with Granddaughter and loving her has been, in many ways a gift to us – a reminder of how difficult life can be for a young person and how thankful we are to have the place and space for her. But the next tattoo? Hers to pay – altogether.

Breast Cancer and Art 101

On a Monday morning not long ago a friend, a breast cancer survivor, sent me an interesting link. She called it weird. Or worried I might think it weird, but I didn't. Not at all.
There are some things we who have never had a mastectomy don't ever think about. That is, until your best friend or your mom or sister has a "double" and part of the reconstruction process is what's to be done about the fact that your breasts look strangely bereft without their central high point - the nipple and areola? It's difficult enough to suffer removal and treatment, but when reconstruction is done, your brain is cooked once again, when you look in the mirror because these new mothers look like they were ordered from a doll factory and plunked on a flesh-colored torso. Remember those bare Barbies? Uh-huh.
The answer is that the color gets tattooed on. I remember my friend was a little apprehensive about making that appointment with Mayo's officially sanctioned tattoo "artist." The procedure seemed like simply one more indignity one had to suffer post-surgery. The results were less than satisfactory. It was like the "artist" simply stenciled twin targets on the front of each one. A salmon-colored circle with, ta-da! a chocolate brown bull's eye. (C'mon guys, A five year old could do better.) Complaining seems pointless, though, when you're not a complainer, and when there are no categories for comparison. In fact, when you didn't even know there was a category for medical tattoo!
Now she wishes, at the time, she could have had someone who was more of an artist, a tattoo artist. Someone with an eye for beauty and color, like this guy. She wishes she could get the word out. I'd like to support that desire. We ALL know someone who has had a mastectomy even if we ourselves forget about it after awhile because clothing worn over reconstructive surgery makes them appear normal. But that person doesn't forget. Every glance in the mirror is a reminder.
So I thought it was a tender, vulnerable thing to share with me. I just never knew! I'm glad she did because this post is a very small way to support breast cancer survivors. Here's the link: Breast Cancer Survivors Find the Michelangelo of Nipple Tattoos