“We are all tattooed in our cradles with the beliefs of our tribe; the record may seem superficial, but it is indelible.” – Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
For centuries, we have been painting and adorning our bodies. Thousand of years of cultures that tells stories. Tales of who we are at our very primitive self and what is meaningful to us. Markings of our skin to capture the essence of our circumstances.
They are beauty personified. If you care to see behind the ink to read the accounting of one’s life.
I got my first tattoo at 36.
“Love Family Happiness”
So simplistic at its core but accurately reflects me. My family are my loves and they will always be my source of happiness. Even in grief, I will always value the joy they bring me.
My second tattoo is there to remind me of my strength.“She flies with her own wings”
Like indelible marks, they fuse together and bind my beliefs for all the world to see.
Scott has adored my tattoos. He appreciates their beauty and loves their meanings.
But it has always been my thing.
Until last week.
My handsome unadorned husband has a story that will now be shared to anyone that cares to listen. A proclamation owning his new identity.
I think they are magnificent.