New ink and a tribute to Jessie Craig

Two years and 10 days after the day that Nanny passed away, I got a tattoo inked onto the skin of my left arm.

I had planned for this from the first few minutes after we buried her. I knew that I needed to have her indelibly etched on me. I knew that I needed a constant reminder of her that I could touch and see and have. 

Thankfully, I found a tattoo artist that breathed life into what I wanted: Samantha Read of Inkspot Tattoos.

I booked the appointment and waited impatiently. I fretted over the whole idea. I hadn't told many people that I was getting a new tattoo. And I especially hadn't told anyone back home. Something inside of me wanted to keep the whole thing quiet. 

In the days leading up to my appointment I cycled through lots of emotions - anxiety, excitement, sadness, melancholy, and so many more. I cried, I laughed and I relived the days leading up to Nanny's death. I remembered how it felt to have almost every relative home in her house. I remembered passing around stories of Nanny. Of holding her hand and listening to her raspy breaths. I remember stretching out beside her the night before she passed away and sleeping curled up next to her like I used to do as a child. 

I remembered holding her hand as she faded into the night.  I remembered that on April 2, 2013 at 9:02pm my grandmother, my friend, my hero, my partner in crime, my second mum - took her last breath surrounded by her loved ones. It's a special thing to be able to take your last breath surrounded by your loved ones in the house that you were born in, that you spent your childhood in, that you lived your married life and raised your children in. And it was one of Nanny's wishes. And we honoured it. 

The tattoo that I got in tribute of Nan consists of a ruby throated hummingbird sitting on the edge of a teacup that bears the pattern of Nanny's bone china, with apple blossoms and her initials in a locket. It's beautiful. I love it. I proudly show it off and it gives me an opportunity to tell people about the amazing woman that played a huge role in my growing up. 

I've noticed lots of things that have reminded me of Nanny since she passed. But I'm so happy that I have a reminder of her on me that I can experience whenever I miss her. 

The fear of disappointment

I've done a lot of stupid things in my 28 years on this planet. Some of these led to failed opportunities, some led to better things; sometimes I felt the results right away, sometimes it was farther in the future. Whatever the case I have a huge fear of disappointment- sometimes I'm scared of disappointing myself, most of the time it's that I'm scared of disappointing other people.

In my world fear of failing< fear of disappointment (myself or others).

I'm back in school studying because I know I can't get a decent job with my chosen undergrad. And that's a disappointment to both me and my parents. I'm fighting for a promotion that I'm not even sure is worth it and that's a potential disappointment to me. I'm a member on a committee for Sit With Me and I'm worried I will disappoint the board and my fellow members.

Today, I've been hit with a huge wave of anxiety that I'm disappointing everyone that I love and hold dear. I know this is foolish, but I hate the thought that I'm a disappointment. Most recently this has been brought upon by my decision to get one final tattoo in memory of my Nanny. I've felt compelled to have a permanent reminder of her since she passed away. And I've held off because I know that my parents aren't super keen on tattoos. Thankfully, my two current tattoos are easy to hide and not obvious. But this tattoo for Nanny I want in a place that is easier to show off, I want people to see it and ask about it so that I have a chance to share the story of my grandmother. I've been thinking more and more that I want it on my arm somewhere, but I'm also considering my ribcage, close to my heart. Needless to say, I'm a ball of worry and anxiety and feel some guilt about this decision.

In another part of my brain, (the small part that sometimes whispers "you're 28, you can do what you want") I know that feeling this way is irrational and silly. But this part is not loud enough or big enough to drown out the silly, irrational part that is overwhelmed with the fear of disappointing someone - anyone.

Long story short, I will get the tattoo. And I will guilty about it for a while, but ultimately it is for me. And I should be able to enjoy it and I will.