This weekend I took a trip with my mother to Jacksonville, FL to meet Gino (her biological father) and also to attend her half sister's wedding. I was pretty excited about the trip and being able to meet more relatives. Ever since Dad passed away, I'm finding myself placing more priority on the relationships in my life. You never know when someone will be taken away.
During the trip, the topic of tattoos came up and it reminded me of how loving my dad was. When I was 18 years old and a freshman in college, a friend of mine was coming to visit me at my dorm. About a week before she arrived she called to tell me she'd just gotten a tattoo and that I would be getting one when she came to see me. I thought, "whatever" and quickly forgot about the conversation when the phone was hung up. She didn't though. Within a minute of her arriving at my dorm she asked if I was ready to go. I said, "Go where?" and she reminded me of the tattoo conversation. Peer pressure got the better of me and off we went to MPG Tattoo in Salem.
I had no clue what I wanted to get, but finally decided on a palm tree as that represented my love for the desert and where I was born. The tattoo healed nicely but I chose to keep it a secret from my parents for fear of what they would think of me. As a younger teen I remember joking with my dad and asking if I could get a tattoo, to which he responded, "Yeah but only if I get to decide what it is and where it goes." Shocked I asked, "Really?!" And then he laughed and said he'd have "stupid tattooed on your forehead."
Since my palm tree is pretty small in size, I was able to cover it up with a bandaid whenever I'd visit home. Then one day I decided to tell my mom, but I made her swear not to tell my dad. I knew that would be incredibly difficult for her because they shared everything. But I was tired of feeling like I had a secret and needed to share it. I have no clue if she ever kept that secret or not because neither let on that they'd talked about it.
After some time I decided I was no longer going to hide it from him and I just needed to be brave. I took the bandaid off my ankle, walked into his room where he was laying on the bed watching tv, and then laid down on the bed too. I quickly lost my nerve and got up to leave the room, but then he asked, "what is that?" He'd seen the tattoo in the mirror they had in their room. So I showed him and waited for the smack down I felt sure I'd get.
But it didn't come. Instead he showed love without judgement. No judgement whatsoever! He didn't even say he was disappointed with me. All that time I was worried for nothing! I wish I'd realized sooner the deep love my dad had for me. I would've shared more freely and lived with less fear of being a disappointment to him.
There is so much I would redo if I could. I think that's why investing in relationships now seems like such an important thing to do. I don't want to live with regrets in any of the other relationships in my life. I just wish it hadn't taken losing him to realize that.
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