~Thought For the Day~ A Tattooed Soul ©

      I have had something weighing on my mind for nearly a week and the best way for me to release is to put it into written form and share it with the world, hopefully changing the hearts and minds of my readers.

As most of you know, I have two sons, five and half years apart, they are complete opposites in their passion and interests but there are few things they have in common. I have instilled in them to be who they are, never worrying what others think as long as they are pleased with themselves and also I have worked very hard to teach them good morals and to constantly think of others above yourself, doing good deeds and an positive attitude.

It was brought to my attention that my eldest son was put down, by his own family mind you, for being himself. I saw the deep, hurtful pain in his eyes as he hung his head and told me of the tongue lashing he received and the shame he felt when fired upon. Why did they put him down? For having tattoos:, he wasn’t mistreating animals or kicking elderly people, he has tattoos.

 Saying he would never amount to anything in life because he has ink on his skin.

  One of which had they cared enough to ask is in memory of my Mom, his Nina who he was so very close to.

I have had to contain myself for quite a few days before I could even write this piece. My son, my child is not to be judged by what is on his body. He has a good heart, a beautiful smile, and kindness for others that continues to amaze me.

I am sure many people out there feel that tattoos are not a good thing, and hooray for you, but it might surprise you to know that I myself have two. One is on my left foot, my mother’s handwriting of my nickname that she called me, and also one on my back of the sun and the names of my sons. Oh and I am sure I will have another. Does that change how you feel about me? It shouldn’t, and if it does, shame on you.

What if I had scars on my face, back and shoulders? Would you put me down? What if my hair was purple and I was paralyzed, would you look down on me, and assume I was a nobody?

I hate that my child was subjected to such ignorance and rude behavior, had I been present that conversation and put down session would have ended promptly, but my son also has a personality that strives for peace and will do anything not to raise a fuss.

This same young man that was put down by family that has never taken the time to get to know him is the same young man who has proved himself a man long before his legal age. 

When our dying neighbor was in the last stages of his life, this young man barged into a hospital room to bid a life long friend goodbye, his first encounter of seeing someone on the brink of death.

 This young man who stood by my side and stood firm as I watched my Mom’s health spiral downward and I felt as though my life was over, he saw more in me than I could at the time, and he stood like a man beside me, holding me up.

 As my Mother lay in a hospital, dying, her time down to minutes, he entered her room, totally slammed in the face with a sight that no person should have to see, and when their eyes met, her blood pressure rose to a normal rate, unable to speak, she was letting him know, she loved him, that heart was trying to stay on track for him just so he could spend some time with her.

 He sat beside her, holding her hand, watching a woman who had been there for him his entire life, slip away, and he held it together, he held her, he made their jokes, and gave her tears, I have no doubt that in the last moments of her life, the amount of pride she felt towards him was beyond measure.

Did she care that after her passing that he got tattoos?  Would she care had she lived? No, a huge resounding, NO! Maybe that fellow got them as a way to cope and deal with our loss, I don’t know, but it is his life and his choice.

 She is the very soul that taught me how to mother these boys and the one lesson she was adamant about was that we are all the same, our skin color makes no difference, our social standing means zilch, and material wealth is garbage.

My children are upstanding, good young men, and if you can’t see that, well too bad for you.

In life we will encounter all types of people, large, small, rich, poor, people with tattoos, different skin tones and physical impairments; we are to see the beauty beyond the surface.

I feel sad that there are people in this world who are so obviously ignorant.

If you base your value of a person on things you don’t care for, you live a sad, pathetic life.

Would you turn away a man or woman with tattoos that might be the paramedic that holds your life in their hands?

 Would you deny a person of something because they aren’t just like you, if you would, you are miserable.

I am so sorry my son had to encounter such people in his life already, but they are the ones missing out, and if they had taken time to get to know him, they would find beneath his tattoos, he is becoming one of the best men I know.

 Don’t be ashamed of who you are, be ashamed for the people who are hypocrites, idiots and losers who aren’t bold enough to be who they are, and hide behind society’s ideas of the ideal person.

Be you, and be the best you than you can be.

I will now take my tattooed self outside wearing flip flops for all the world to see my foot, tattoo in tact and be who I am.

I won’t judge you for being you, as long as you are genuine, and you know what,  each person you encounter leaves a tattoo on your soul, long after you are gone. 

Remember that.

Here are my thoughts.

©

Teresa