In my 20s, I got a tattoo to link myself to my grandmother and her Auschwitz tattoo. When I tried to remove it in my 40s, I realized it was too late. The ink had already left its mark on my son.
A wonderful piece of writing. Fascinating that you had those dreams as a child. And the way you connect it all back through the generations. Simply beautiful.
I love this story. It feels relatable in universal ways - the relationship and ties with your grandmother and what she went through; how you still feel connected to her and that struggle (and how the vivid dreams linked you two in ways speech cannot) ; how all of that resonated with your son. I, too, am connected with my grandmother's struggles she shared with me - albeit not in a concentration camp during WWII - and my son is always asking questions about his grandmother and recently got a tattoo. Poignant and reflective writing!
Thanks for sharing this personal and beautiful story to honor your grandmother. The removal sounded so painful! And I loved how you responded to your son’s tattoo. So loving.
I got my first tattoo when I was 23 as well - also a GenXer. It was a rebellious thing at the time. I surmised that if I had my ears pierced I couldn’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery anyway so why not? Years later, the small sun that was called a “tramp stamp” bothered me. It was the poor artwork that nagged at me. Although I did the opposite. In my mid 40s, I had it covered it with another larger tattoo of a beautiful colorful lotus flower. And then I got a few more small ones. One on my left inner bicep of an enlightened lotus flower. Soft and sweet. And then only 2 years ago I dared and got one on my right inner forearm. A small arrow pointing down to my hand but signifying to stay grounded in love. It’s got arrow feathers to signify my ancestors and a meeting of two opposing triangles signifying Mother Earth and father Sky. This one truly honors how far I’ve come in coming back to myself and grateful for all that was and beyond. And for me, it’s taking back power of myself without shame of what it once signified for Jews.
And my daughter now 18 also just got her first and I hope only tattoo. It’s on her upper bicep and can be hidden with short sleeves even. It’s tasteful and well done of an outline of 4 trees that she loves. They are her favorite trees from a landscape at Jewish sleep away camp. Thanks for prompting me to want to share part of this story.
funny how physical pain can actually focus and force secretion of emotion or thought of course better when we have given permission to the pain inflicted in the opposite instance i suppose the revelations are more cloudy in the moment admire the clarity of your observations
Life tattoos us in so many ways. Science shows us that the cells of the body remember. Just as your grandmother's cells remember what she experienced and, in her ovaries and in her mitochondrial DNA, perhaps passed some part of these experiences to your mother, to you, and to your son.
I really felt what you wrote. My grandmothers and mothers hands were work worn from Oklahoma farming, cooking, and child raising. I have scars and freckles on my hands, but not like theirs. The Tralfamadorians reference really brought my fascination with hands and the differences to mind!
A wonderful piece of writing. Fascinating that you had those dreams as a child. And the way you connect it all back through the generations. Simply beautiful.
I love this story. It feels relatable in universal ways - the relationship and ties with your grandmother and what she went through; how you still feel connected to her and that struggle (and how the vivid dreams linked you two in ways speech cannot) ; how all of that resonated with your son. I, too, am connected with my grandmother's struggles she shared with me - albeit not in a concentration camp during WWII - and my son is always asking questions about his grandmother and recently got a tattoo. Poignant and reflective writing!
Thanks for sharing this personal and beautiful story to honor your grandmother. The removal sounded so painful! And I loved how you responded to your son’s tattoo. So loving.
I got my first tattoo when I was 23 as well - also a GenXer. It was a rebellious thing at the time. I surmised that if I had my ears pierced I couldn’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery anyway so why not? Years later, the small sun that was called a “tramp stamp” bothered me. It was the poor artwork that nagged at me. Although I did the opposite. In my mid 40s, I had it covered it with another larger tattoo of a beautiful colorful lotus flower. And then I got a few more small ones. One on my left inner bicep of an enlightened lotus flower. Soft and sweet. And then only 2 years ago I dared and got one on my right inner forearm. A small arrow pointing down to my hand but signifying to stay grounded in love. It’s got arrow feathers to signify my ancestors and a meeting of two opposing triangles signifying Mother Earth and father Sky. This one truly honors how far I’ve come in coming back to myself and grateful for all that was and beyond. And for me, it’s taking back power of myself without shame of what it once signified for Jews.
And my daughter now 18 also just got her first and I hope only tattoo. It’s on her upper bicep and can be hidden with short sleeves even. It’s tasteful and well done of an outline of 4 trees that she loves. They are her favorite trees from a landscape at Jewish sleep away camp. Thanks for prompting me to want to share part of this story.
funny how physical pain can actually focus and force secretion of emotion or thought of course better when we have given permission to the pain inflicted in the opposite instance i suppose the revelations are more cloudy in the moment admire the clarity of your observations
Beautiful essay.
Life tattoos us in so many ways. Science shows us that the cells of the body remember. Just as your grandmother's cells remember what she experienced and, in her ovaries and in her mitochondrial DNA, perhaps passed some part of these experiences to your mother, to you, and to your son.
This is a stunner ❤️
I just love the way this piece gathers force and fits together. Such a good essay! It's (still) one of my very favorite pieces from you!
I really felt what you wrote. My grandmothers and mothers hands were work worn from Oklahoma farming, cooking, and child raising. I have scars and freckles on my hands, but not like theirs. The Tralfamadorians reference really brought my fascination with hands and the differences to mind!