Two for Tiny Tattoos

/ roughwighting

butterfly, butterflies, butterfly tattoo, tattooA little over a year ago I wrote a “fictional” account of getting a matching tattoo with my 16-year-old granddaughter, Sophie. Tattoo Trauma | roughwighting

As much as we wanted to make our action non-fictionable, in our state no tattooing is allowed for anyone under 18.

But we had plans.

After intense research, we found a reputable tattoo parlor (are they still called “parlors”?) in a little New England town where every building is brick and at least 100 years old.

After much persuading and cajoling on our part to the tattooist (who made her well-earned living creating imaginative tattoos on arms and legs and backs and…. imaginative places), we convinced her to take us at the end of day on Sophie’s 18th summer birthday for just a tiny tattoo on our ankles. grandmother and granddaughter, bonding grands, tattoo adventure

I felt a bit nostalgic as we drove the 35 minutes for this special bonding experience. I was present minutes after Sophie’s birth, at the time worried about being a good grandmother, never guessing this shared adventure 18 years later.

butterfly tattoNeither of us had ever desired a tattoo. Neither of us like needles … or pain. But both of us desired a tiny, shared memory seared into our skin, forever. Months earlier we had chosen a butterfly with wings half opened, ready for takeoff, but always connected to “home.”

As we entered the small narrow parlor situated in one of those old brick buildings, we noticed the hanging plants, the cheery flowered wallpaper, and the big sign that stated: DON’T RUSH ME. tattoo parlor, New England tattoo studio, tattoo for grandmother and granddaughter

The tattoo artist, a lovely 40-something woman with long wavy hair and a crooked smile, showed us the small design she created from the butterfly drawings we’d e-mailed her. It was perfect. 

My granddaughter’s voice quivered when she answered the tattooist’s next question: “I’ll go first.” Then Sophie turned to me as she sat in the dentist-like chair, “Madre, will you hold my hand?”

I was delighted. But in the 20 minutes it took to etch the tiny butterfly tattoo, I thought the newly minted 18-year-old would crush every bone in my hand as Sophie squeezed, eyes shut, whimpering.

The tattooist stopped every few minutes, and each time Sophie assured her: “I’m fine. It’s not that bad. I’m fine.”

Her tattoo was adorable. Just what we wanted. Then it was my turn. “Do you want me to hold your hand, Madre?”

I demurred, holding my thoughts that after childbirth and nose cancer surgery, this would be a snap.

I was right.

We left the parlor, wearing smiles as fluttery as our butterfly tattoos, stopping for ice cream cones, sitting in an outside café table, chattering about nothing … and everything.

matching tattoos, butterfly tattoo, family bonding with tattoos

So, that’s how I spent my summer. How about you?

Matched for life.

63 thoughts on “Two for Tiny Tattoos”

  1. Oh my goodness…that first post on this topic was more than a year ago, Pam? How is THAT possible?
    Thank you for taking us along, photos and play-by-play. What a bonding and beautifying moment for you and sweet Sophie…with “smiles as fluttery as our butterfly tattoos”. Hugs, hugs, hugs! 💝

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  3. I love it!! What a neat thing to do with her. My daughter has wanted to get matching tattoos for a long time. I got one 2 years ago on my arm and I love it. She wants one like mine but with my handwriting. She has chickened out twice 😄 So we’ll see. Mine says “And this too shall pass” encased in a rose. The words are the stem. My artist and I designed it. The rose is for my dad who passed in 2022. 🌹

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  6. My son wanted a tattoo when he was in high school. I told him that he’d have to wait until he was on his own!! He went off to college and when he came home he had his tattoo. It was on the inside of his arm. It was a Bible saying and the date of my liver tranpslant – 8-9-96!! I still was upset but I guess it was his way of honoring me! I won’t be getting one myself. It will be 30 years this Sept. 8th. How is that possible???You’re braver than me.

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    • I remember this, Karen, and I thought your son’s tattoo was such a tremendous symbol of his love for you.
      YOU are an inspiration to so many, and a wonderful advocate for organ donation. 🩷🙏

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  7. Well done, Grandmere! You and your beautiful granddaughter, Sophie, will always cherish this awesome experience. The love you both share is such an unbreakable bond and the dainty tattoos are perfect. . . .

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  9. For me, your fascinating story pivots on this: “Madre, will you hold my hand?”

    Sophie and her Grandmere are bonded for life now. The story and the dialogue are non-fictional. Right?? ((( )))

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    • Thanks – many of my friends raised their eyebrows at the fact I got a tattoo. “YOU??” they say. Ha – little do we know about a person when it involves a grandchild. 🙂 (However, if my granddaughter had asked me to do a large tiger tattoo, or a bear or a wolf, hmmm, I think “no” would be in the sentence.)

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    • You are too kind, Nancy. I think Sophie must have put a filter on her camera when she took that selfie. 🙂 I don’t know how to do that, which I suppose is just as well. As my sister-in-law says, “we’ve earned every wrinkle.” ❤

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    • I followed the tattooist’s after-care directions to the letter to make sure no fading occurs. It was a sacrifice, because it meant no baths for a month. :-0 (Showers were fine, by the way, if you were wondering if I started to smell). 🙂 🙂

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    • Angel wings would be perfect for you, Marlene. I love that idea. When my mom was in her 70s, she suggested that she and I get tattoos together, and I said no, thinking she was too old and it would be bad for her skin. Well, here I am in my early 70s and … who cares? 🙂 I have silently apologized to my mom.

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    • You are so funny! The pain was minimal while the tattooist etched; sometimes I hardly felt a thing, sometimes I winced, but not badly. Afterwards neither Sophie nor I had any discomfort. We just used Palmer’s cocoa butter a few times a day that prevented itching or flaking.

      The ice cream was a nice reward for our courage, though. 🙂

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Always a pleasure to read your thoughts.