Yesterday we celebrated our oldest son’s 20th birthday, which is so completely surreal, because up until yesterday, I thought I was 20. I mean, I feel twenty. Except in the morning, when I wake up feeling like I’ve been struck all night by bed trolls with clubs.
Anyway, when I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he said a tattoo.
I also wanted a tattoo.
This was the perfect opportunity to do something memorable and meaningful.
So off I went with all my boys.
The tattoo I had planned was a special word, “Elior” – which was given to me by a friend as a potential name for my photography business, 6 years ago. A Hebrew word, it means “God is my light” and although I chose a different name for the business, this word has stuck with me, and has been my internal mantra and is so secretly special to me.
Biruk and I hadn’t exchanged notes, it was divine providence that had us both getting Hebrew tattoos. He came home from his first semester of college with his own special Hebrew word, “Jehovah Jireh”, which means God provides. Apparently I told him about this word a few months ago, and it stuck with him and became special.
Ladies first. It had been 20 years since my last tattoo. I was nervous, but pleasantly surprised that the pain wasn’t as bad as I remembered. This could be because I asked if there was a topical numbing agent they could use, which our tattoo artist said he was using. I believed I this until we walked out of the place two hours later and my husband informed me that he was just joking. No numbing agent. So it could’ve been the placebo effect.
Or maybe my 44 year old self is tougher than my 23 year old self.
I’m going to just sort of shut up here and let the rest of the photos tell the story. Lets see if you can figure it all out. I believe in you.
(Biruk’s first tattoo is across his ribs (ouch). It says “Philippians 4:13”)
Good times, right?