A Different Body

If I had even slightly suggested a tattoo, Mom would have locked me, not in a tower, but the fifth floor flat in our tenement until I came to my senses. Obviously, since I recently read an ad suggesting “A Tatoo For A Mother’ Day gift.”that was in an era long gone

However, while I knew enough not to even tentatively discuss the subject, I never regretted not having a small discrete body modification. Possibly because my memories are equally indelible, I do have a small variety I currently wear (if that is the appropriate description,)

And the scars of memory I do have are vibrant, strong and totally identify me.

And yes, I will carry them until we depart this earth together for our final journey in time,

I own three, but they not only transport me back to yesterday, but distinguish the person I have become throughout the years we shared.

The first and yet the foremost is the totally unexpected encounter on a subway station, the miracle that changed my life immediately. That predominant color is red, vibrant, strong and totally indelible

The second is quite different; the colors more subtle. It pinpoints a message I learned from two women who each taught me a hard yet similar lesson. I learned that it is imperative to teach our children, our God given gifts, to fly their wings. A painful lesson, but often truth is, and the strong colors often shadowed in nuances.

The last is colored with pastels, and evokes the sky on a spring day. It is a nosegay of wild flowers, assorted, diverse and all unique, composed of my yesterdays, and the moments shared with those I loved and those who loved me.

I doubt any tattoo could ever compare to my equally indelible memories.