I have wanted a tattoo for at least 20 years, but I could never nail down exactly what I wanted, or where I wanted it. I toyed with a butterfly on my ankle, or a cluster of flowers up higher on my calf. More importantly pain is not my friend and the thought of anyone drawing on me with needles terrified me.
Once my life imploded in November I knew that it was no longer a want, but a need. I would always have Connor in my heart and my memory. Now I needed him on my body. I needed to carry him around as physical memory on me, on a daily basis.
Anyone who knows me knows that:
1. I can’t draw to save my life and art was not anything I excelled at in school.
2. I can and will research the daylights out of anything that I am interested in.
I talked to people I knew that had tattoos, and found a local artist that I liked his work. Most of all, I was told repeatedly he had a “gentle hand”. I am a wimp, I wanted this tattoo, but I didn’t want to be in agony getting it.
I perused his profile and found a piece that he had done that I loved.
Messaged him, and he drew one up for me. We set a time, for me to be ink’d and all was set.
As the time grew closer, I got nervous, but I also knew that this was something I needed, wanted and more importantly had to have to move forward in the grieving process.
We showed up in Gardner at Kevin’s studio and he set everything up, his girlfriend put some music on. She started to talk me through the process. Telling me to breathe and relax. It really didn’t hurt as much as I expected. Just feeling like constant cat scratching. Once it was starting to hurt, we were done.
I now understand what everyone says about them being addictive, I am in the process of finding one to honor Kyle’s strength, because that young man is a Rock of Gibraltar, and he needs to be recognized as well!!!🗻