Tatoos.

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Today I decided to talk about tatoos. I was born in the 70’s, raised in the 80’s, and became a mom in the 90’s. And in those three decades so much has changed.

Growing up, most often people who had tattoos was usually not good people. Notice I said USUALLY. I say that because as a child growing up you never seen working people with tattoos. Not even in a fast food restaurant. My first job was working at McDonald’s. I used to wear these black bands. There was this one manager who made me take them off. So I did, but after my shift, I put them back on and had them on again at work. She told me I wasn’t allowed to wear them when she’s on duty as manager. All the cool kids wore those black bands. So I’m guessing she didn’t like that trend. But in general back in the day tattoos was considered taboo. Then there was a time when I knew this guy, he was just a friend, he was telling me about a job interview he had to go to. He said he hated looking for work in the summer. I asked him why, and he said because of his tattoos. So me being silly I said do they disappear in the winter? He laughed and said no, but to wear long sleeve shirts to cover my tattoos in the summer sucks because it’s so hot. So I asked why do you cover them? He said because most companies won’t hire you if you have tatoos.

Now a days you see all kinds of profession’s with tattoos. Tattoos on the arm like a sleeve tattoo. Colorful tattoos. People have them on their neck, face, basically any where on their body. It’s almost like IF you don’t have at least one tattoo you’re not “trending”. But I do feel that tattoos are a personal choice, and for each tattoo it should have a meaning, other than ( I like it) I do like tattoos. I have two if them.

I want to get two more, in time I will. The funny thing about one of my tattoos is, my dad was always against tattoos. I didn’t even get my first tattoo until I was 35. I had always wanted a heart with a yellow rose, with a ribbon that has my son’s name in the ribbon. Instead this is what I got.

First tattoo

The photo is a little blurry, but it’s a black hear with a black rose, and two red drops of blood. I have it on my left shoulder blade. The meaning behind that is… When my heart stopped. Not in the literal aspect, but when I made the decision to no longer love. To no longer love and care for the father of my son. The 15 year relationship was unrequited love. Now the other tattoo I have is..

Memorial tattoo

This one is in memory of my dad. Yes he was always against tattoos. This tattoo has a very deep meaning to me. First it’s a dogwood flower. Which of course is from the dogwood tree, which is the state tree in the state of Missouri, where my dad is from. I also had his favorite verse from the bible the KJV Hebrews 11:1

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Now there’s a legend behind the dogwood tree. In short……………………. The tree used to grow big and tall. The woid from the tree was used to build things. However it was the wood used to crucify Jesus. Because that was the wood used, God cursed, and blessed the tree. The tree was cursed to no longer grow big and tall, but to always be small. The blessing is that the flower on the dogwood us a symbol of rebirth. Now if you look closely at the flower you will notice it’s shaped like a cross. On the tips of the petals you will see shades if dark pink that represents the blood from Jesus being crucified.

So you see I’m not against tattoos, I just feel like they should mean something. There are two more I’d like to get. One is of an anchor. In general the anchor can symbolize hope, steadfastness, calm and composure. The other is a lighthouse, they represent the guidance, refuge, and salvation that characterized the life of Christ.

The funny thing about my first tattoo, my dad didn’t know. I was NEVER going to tell him. In fact I made sure to wear clothing that completely covered my back, so that in no way that tattoo could be seen. BUT my niece who was very young at the time blurted it out. So The story is….. My dad loved to take long walks. From time to time he would ask one of us to join him. Most often it was his way if catching up with us grown kids. So that day it was my sister and her oldest daughter. They was wakking and some how the subject of tattoos came up, and my niece blurted out ” Aunt Bea has a tattoo” my dad was in instant denial. But then one day he popped up at my place, I was running to change when he said stop right there. So I stopped. He told me to turn around so I spent around fast, he said turn slowly, needless to say I knew he knew. He didn’t come right out and ask me uf I had a tattoo. I think it was because he didn’t want me to lie about it. Also he needed to see it. He wasn’t mad about it. He actually liked it.

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