ink.

Soooooo I posted about going to AC, and while there I got a new tattoo.

I guess for a little bit of backstory on what it is and how it all came about starts back in 2003. My grandfather passed away that June, and it was my first real loss. I grew up staying at my grandparent's house in the summertime, would sleep there a lot on weekends, and always brought friends there with me for sleepovers and to use their huge pool. Both of my grandparents played a giant part in my childhood, and I am still so blessed to have my grandma in my life today.

My nonno, which means grandfather in Italian, was my best friend. It sounds so typical and cliche, but he was. I'm an only child, so those summers spent at my grandparent's house were what I had. I didn't have an older brother to teach me how to ride a bike, or a little sister to play dress-up with; I had a nonno who taught me how to swim, and shared his love of dogs with me. I have cousins, and they contributed to my childhood in rich ways as well, filling some of the void that my lack of siblings left, but my nonno and nonna are with whom I have some of my most vivid memories with as a child.

me and nonno, and my nonna with my younger cousins, circa 1993

When nonno passed away after a long battle with cancer, I took it really hard. Even though I was only thirteen, I always knew I wanted a tattoo, and I assumed that when I turned eighteen, that a tattoo for him would be my first. It wasn't. I got a tattoo with my best friend when we were nineteen, and then I got one on my grandfather's birthday when I was twenty, in Italian, but not exactly for him. Then when I was twenty-one I got a third tattoo, but I was still not sure of what I wanted for my grandpa. Then, on the way to Atlantic City, I was talking to my friend Meagan about what I think I finally wanted for him, roman numerals of the date he died. Simple, like he was. That's when I realized that I would be in AC on June 13, the tenth anniversary of his death. Perfect, right?

So I took the plunge and decided to go to a small tattoo place on the 13th, and get VI XIII on my wrist for him. I originally had wanted it in white, because all of the pictures I saw on google and on tattoo sites looked awesome. It looks more like a scar than a tattoo. But, the artist at the parlor said that white fades to yellow, and when you get tan (which I thankfully do very easily) it gets weird when you return to your translucent state again in October. So, I went with black. I didn't think I would ever want a black tattoo on my wrist, or in any other place that it's really noticeable, but I went for it. I want to see it every day. My rib tattoo and back of the hip tattoos are only seen in the summer, and my foot tattoo is more noticeable but covered half the year. So I figured I could afford to do something a little more noticeable that can easily be covered by a watch or a bracelet once it's healed.

So that's that. I'm happy I did it when I did it, and I'm happy that the last year and a half of planning to get a new tattoo since my last one ended up fulfilling my plan to get one for nonno for the last ten years.