Yesterday I was feeling some kind of way. I had a lot on my mind and tried to think of someone who always stays composed in the face of a laundry list of things to do and I thought of my sister, Claudia.

Not only has she taught me how to be a professional packer (see previous post called Best Advice), she has stared adversity in the face and always come out on top. In her honor, I got a tattoo. My first tattoo.

Let me start by saying that I’ve thought about my first tattoo for a very long time. This was not done on a whim. I claimed to be one of those people who was perpetually working on her first tattoo. I kept cut-outs, images on my phone and laptop, and sketched ideas out frequently. I knew I wanted one since a young age but I hadn’t done it yet because I never knew what exactly it was going to be or where.

I loved the way flowers looked but I was always concerned about choosing the wrong flower with the wrong meaning. Or putting it somewhere I didn’t want it later. Or what if the artist designed the petals too skinny or too fat? I hadn’t even found an artist yet who tattooed flowers I really admired. Then I thought about a quote or saying. I knew a tattoo with words or a simple reminder to myself would be cool. But where would that one go that would compliment a flower? I loved mandalas but I asked my best friend to design that one and didn’t want to pressure her to get it to me right away. I knew I wanted to honor Atlanta, my hometown, and maybe even incorporate Brooklyn and Portland in some way. Or have a tattoo that I added to of the places I lived. But that wasn’t thought out enough yesterday when I was ready to get my first tattoo. I knew I would surely get one when someone close to me died. A friend of mine inquired why I was waiting til their death to honor them and that always stuck with me.

So there I was, having a rough day. And I thought about my sister. And the tattoo on her leg. 

My sister has a tattoo of her initials on her calf. She and I share the same initials: CMG. She said she put it on her calf so when she claimed a wave while surfing, the sorry sucker left behind knew the initials of who took their wave. Her tattoo is in black, cursive lettering and all uppercase. Mine is all lowercase and in print/block lettering; symbolizing the little sister that’s like her but unique in my own way. 

I called Claudia yesterday to share the news and she was really proud and moved. I am happy to share something with her and now when people ask me about my tattoo, I can tell people about my amazing sister. 



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