One friend suggested I do something Butch loved...scuba diving was out, it feels too much like drowning for my taste, fishing was no good, it was far too windy, and I don't know the first thing about dismantling a gearbox. One of Butch's favourite things was to watch horror movies, and I'm sure part of that enjoyment involved me jumping, screaming or grabbing at him every time something scary happened. Nup, that wasn't happening anytime soon.
I was contemplating a day of moping around feeling sorry for myself and trying to remember the good times we had. Trish, my daughter had other plans....
Her and Matt decided to shout me an early birthday present, something I had wanted to do for a long time, so she booked me an appointment for 3:00pm and it was all on...
When we arrived at the tattoo parlour, they were running late, so I had plenty of opportunity to think about what getting a tattoo would feel like....hmmm...
There was a lady ahead of me who would have been in her late sixties. I watched closely and she didn't even flinch. This upset me a little, as I realised I wouldn't be able to cry or scream if someone older than me could handle the pain...buggah!
Finally it was my turn and I leapt up to show the design I have been carrying around in my handbag for almost a year. As he was leaning over to begin, I thought I would try a little small talk so it would distract me, just in case.
'So, how long you been doing this?' I asked
'He looked up, over at the clock, and then back at me, grinning replied 'Oh, about a week, week and a half!'
No one likes a smart arse! I resigned to having to keep quiet.....difficult for me, as you probably know by now.
It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would and I was impressed with the great job he did, the perfect swirls and positioning. He had to keep pulling my hand back as I admired my forearm after he had finished. He cleaned it, I checked it again, he pulled it back and put the cream on it, I checked it again...
I've always wanted a tattoo, but until last year, I never found anything I could live with for the rest of my life. Late last year I was very sick, I didn't have a disease as such, but I did have a dis-ease. I wasn't sure if I wanted to stick around for the duration, so slowly but surely I began to shut my body down. What started as a Reiki healing turned into a continuous question by not one, but two good friends....'Live or Die? Choose'
I finally chose, but I have to admit it wasn't an easy decision, there were plenty of good points for both choices.....
My tattoo on the inside of my forearm serves to remind me, I chose life.
So I'm hoping you are wondering what I chose....and if you aren't, well, you should stop reading about now...
It's a Triade or Triskele, which is an ancient celtic symbol related to earthly life, afterlife and reincarnation.
I may feel as if parts of my life are heartbreakingly sad, lonely or empty, but every time I catch sight of, admire or show off my tattoo, I will remember that on the anniversary of Butch's passing, I made a commitment to a life, mine!