Tattoo You By: Christine Albrecht

I was never one for tattoos. I used to think, why on earth would someone put something on their body that they would be stuck with for the rest of their lives? Akin to wearing leg warmers in the ‘80s and then being forced to wear them every day for the rest of your life.

My oldest son has wanted a tattoo for (it seems) ever and I have always, emphatically said, ‘No’! I would tell him that at 21, if he still really wants to have a tattoo, he may have one then. Well, of course, as every year would pass by, I would add 2 to 5 years to the ‘age of consent’. At sixteen, he was discussing a tattoo for his 21st, and I innocently responded, “But I thought our agreement was 31?’. Heh...

Well, I have been officially 'outed' as a ‘hypocrite’ by my family.

Years ago, (and even now) I really enjoyed the look of toe rings. A lovely ring on a nicely pedicured foot was very attractive. The problem was, I can’t stand the feeling of something on my toe. I finally decided that I would tattoo a toe ring onto my right foot. I thought long and hard and then decided upon inking the initials of my loved ones into a band encircling my toe (simple black design). I went to a well-reputed tattoo parlour and had it done. Voilá, and to this day I still love it. (I always tell my hubby that if we were to ever (God forbid) split up, I’d have to find myself another ‘P’ named hubby, lol.)

Is the sin of omission a terrible thing? I just didn’t think it was necessary to tell the boys that Mom got inked, and they are generally not in the habit of looking at my feet.

Take two - my left leg received a serious tibia/fibula fracture due to a fluke - slipping on black ice. Several surgeries later, I was left sporting a couple of unattractive scars. However, the scars did not bother me as much as this strange indentation above my ankle. I often had people asking me what was ‘wrong’ with my shin/ankle (mostly children, of course, as they are so refreshingly honest).

After a year of mulling it over, drawing and redrawing several designs, I decided to ink a tattoo over the scar/indentation. I designed three wolves howling at a full moon with the word ‘Wisdom’ written in the moon (The moon is positioned where the strange indentation is.) I inscribed ‘wisdom’ with the hope that I would acquire some insight as to the reason for my involuntary withdrawal from my usual activities - running, squash, etc.

I returned to Laurie (yes, we are now on a first name basis) and she inked the tattoo. The design turned out beautiful, and I still have children remarking on my ankle/shin, but now the questions are about this intricate design and its meaning (I have entitled the tattoo, ‘Three Sisters’).

Take three - I was in a terrible car accident in April, and according to those who arrived at the scene, I should have been dead. I sustained a broken wrist (left hand) and a concussion. When my wrist was set, it was done poorly and the alignment of my wrist to hand is a tad ‘wonky’, for lack of a better word. The car accident, along with other/past trials and tribulations in my life has always made me think, why? I’ve always believed that things happen for a reason, so why have I always been granted 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc. chances?

December 27th, I went for another tattoo; this one was placed on the inside of my (formerly broken) wrist. The lettering is actually smaller than what is shown here. It contains the initials T B F T G O G G I, an initialism for the phrase, There but for the grace of God, go I.. (A phrase I learned from my Grandmother.)

I do believe the last tattoo discussion with my son ended with me saying, ‘31?... I thought the agreement was age 40?’ And now you have received a confession from a hypocritical Mother.