I am grateful that I have a husband who doesn't mind listening to me whine and eventually cry about my low self esteem. After 30 years he still never tires of me saying the same damn things over and over and over and he's still tender and loving when listening. He knows when I need holding and when it's better to back off and let me process. Because of that, I was able to work through some shit this weekend and I feel infinitely better about it today. I love you honey.
While I'm not necessarily grateful that my 18 year old twins got tattooed over the last couple of weeks, I am infinitely grateful that they think enough of me to have sought advice about where to go and what to get and where to place it on their bodies. They listened when I told them that what they wanted at 18 might not be what they (or their future employers) want at 32 (or 52 for that matter...just sayin'). That while their chosen profession now might allow for ink, what they end up doing later in life may not. Fact is...they are 18 and can really do what the hell they want so maybe grateful isn't exactly what I am...maybe it's relieved.
I'm glad that this tattoo journey with my boys has brought me to a good place about my wrist tattoo (don't judge...I didn't get my first tattoo until I was 45 and I asked my family's permission before I did it). It's time to move forward. I don't for one single second regret getting my sober date on my wrist. It was what I was supposed to do at the time. But in my heart I knew that one day I would either have it removed or covered up with something else. Not because I thought I would drink again (by the time I got the tattoo I already knew that wouldn't be an option - if I chose to drink it would have been a relapse and I would have had to do it all again) but because I knew...no, I felt...that the time would come to stop looking back at what I was and stand present in the moment and embrace who I am. This is that time.
|They share DNA and now they share ink.|
I'm grateful to be of service. Paul, over at Message in a Bottle, put out a request for a letter writing campaign. If you haven't seen it, you can read about it here. I jumped at the chance to help. I jumped to be of service to him. If you haven't tried it, it's the greatest feeling in the world to do something for someone else, especially for another recovering alcoholic. So while I love you Paul and would do anything to help, know that this was as much for me as it was for you. Thank you for asking - it was truly my honor.
I'm grateful that Fall has finally found its way to the Carolinas. It's about damn time.
I'm grateful for this blog and this blogging community and all of the true friends I've made here.