A few years ago I began to entertain the idea of getting a small tattoo. The decision to have something permanently etched on my body isn’t something that was spur of the moment. I have two teenagers for goodness sake.
This past weekend I was feeling melancholy and missing my Alabama relatives, who I haven’t seen since July. I decided to trek across the southern US in my 2012 VW Beetle for a good visit and some of my grandmother’s comfort cooking. My mom tagged along for the ride.
We loaded the car with Louisiana Mardi Gras goodness in the form of King Cakes, Abita Mardi Gras Bock, and Community Coffee. I also threw in a bottle of Sainte-Hilaire bubbly. The ride was smooth and uneventful, with my playlist blaring as my mother and I sang songs from the today and yesterdays.
It was a good visit that began with White Russian Cocktails. We didn’t talk about Mr. Miyagi. We didn’t talk about anything sad at all. We just laughed and laughed as we always do when we get together. Our first full day began with King Cake for breakfast, a few cups of Community Coffee, and two pitchers of mimosas.
As we sat around taking photos of Callie the Cat drinking mimosas, I mentioned that I had been thinking about getting a tattoo of a fleur de lis, which has become a symbol of Louisiana’s strength, resilience, and rebirth. I thought this would be fitting and meaningful, because it’s how I feel about myself after that awakening in Vegas.
Strength – Moral power, firmness, or courage.
Resilience – The ability to recover quickly from illness, change, or misfortune; buoyancy.
Rebirth – The action of reappearing or starting to flourish or increase after a decline; revival.
When I explained the reasons to my aunt, mother, and grandmother, my aunt said, “Let’s do this together.”
After a spa pedicure and large glasses of liquid courage, my fabulous Uncle Mike drove myself, my Aunt Robbi, and my mother to an area Tattoo shop, Kreations. Adam, the tattoo artist spent some time talking with us about our body art, what to expect, and how to take care of it as it heals.
This is the original sketch we found. I didn’t want a solid, flat looking fleur de lis. I wanted something with a bit of definition.
I went first, and yes, getting a tattoo on your foot is a bit painful, but I didn’t flinch.
My aunt, on the other hand, hollered like a little girl. It was quite funny.
The finished product was quite nice, and Adam even agreed to pose for a photo with us.
We laid around that night drinking a few more cocktails, watching movies, and keeping our feet propped up like we were injured or something. The next day we woke up with no regrets and even feeling a bit sexy knowing there was this little tattoo on our feet. This called for shoe shopping and my grandmother, who cannot resist a sale, took us to Belk’s where we ended up buying 14 pairs of shoes.
I told my kids what I was planning and even sent them a photo of the end result. They both were appalled and I received a few texts of “Ewww” and “Gross”. That made me giggle. One of my daughter’s friends asked me if I was having a midlife crisis. That made me giggle even more.