Personal Narrative: My Mother's Tattoos

Walking through the painted walls of the tattoo shop, my father asked my sister “What do you want to get a tattoo of?” My sister said “my mother’s name”, but she had another idea. My sister will stay quiet, she didn’t tell us what was her idea, she only said it was a pact. A Pact? What did she mean about a pact? That was our question almost all day long.

The tattoo maker started making the tattoo on my sister’s hand “C-A-T-A-L-I-N-A” in Greek letters. It has been just a simple name written in Greek letters and in black color, but it had a lot of significance. My sister was sure she wanted a tattoo of my mother’s name all life long, she wanted to be always with her even that my mother wasn’t physically right there. While we asked her why didn’t she tattooed our names (meaning my father’s and my name), she said we were her life and that she also loved us, but she had the opportunity of being with us and having fun of life, but that it was another case with my mother, she couldn’t laugh nor play with her so that was the reason she decided to tattoo my mother’s name, as a sign of importance.

My sister’s tattoo was finished and clearly done, she was really happy, I could see it in her eyes and in the way she referred to the tattoo “Its beautiful,

We got there and told her stories, we told her how was school, how was our life going, and especially we mentioned her how much we loved her. We kept remembering amazing and beautiful moments with my mother that will always remain in our hearts. Lastly my father gave another of his long and inspiring discourse, “ I really appreciate and admire you guys, your strength, your intelligence, your way of being. I’m really happy and I thanks God for having such two children like you, that I know that will always take good decisions, want the best for others, and most importantly that you love each other and will always remain