Savage Words: I may not have a tattoo, but I’m inspired

I don’t have any tattoos.

I’m not against them, I’ve just never done it. I’ve thought about it, but now in my mid-50s, my window of tattooing has probably closed.

I think it’s likely that most people my age and younger have one. And even if they don’t, they’re fairly accepting of people proudly displaying some ink. The generation before me, however, I’ve found to be less accepting. People with tattoos are often met with judgement, or at the very least a raised eyebrow from people older than me. I guess I understand that, too.

I’ve thought about tattoos more lately because my 20-year-old daughter has tossed around the idea of getting one. Again, I’m not against it. She’s an adult. If it’s what she wants to do, I’m cool with it, and I have no doubt it will come with some meaning.

I also always have a few ideas bouncing around in my head for what I might write in my Savage Words column. I ask a lot of questions, to friends, to family, and a substantial amount to complete strangers. For as hard as it can be to sometimes come up with a column idea each week, I find inspiration in talking to strangers. Everyone has a unique story to tell, and I’ve forever found that fascinating.

As the tattoo storyline hung in my head over the last few weeks, I asked many others about theirs. I found every answer interesting, and what I probably took from it most is that nearly every single one of them had a meaning behind it. A deep meaning.

The universe sometimes works in weird ways. As I sat at a local coffee shop last week, I asked a barista about her tattoos that snuck out of her short sleeve shirt down her arms.

“Tell me about them,” I said as I made small talk and pointed to her bicep area. It’s a question I’d asked a lot of people the last few weeks.

She told me about them, both with some meaning in her life to them.

I asked if she had others.

She did, she said. One on her leg, and the meaning behind that one sent me to the back of my chair as I listened.

It’s three flowers, a design she had created for a friend. The friend said she loved it, and the process to get the flowers inked up on her friend was in full swing.

Before the inking began, the barista posted the image on her Facebook page. Her mother hit the ‘Like’ button on the image.

A few hours later, her mother was dead, the victim of a car accident on Interstate 90 just outside of Brandon.

Many of you probably know her. Traci DeNeui-Scholl was a 1993 Brandon Valley graduate. She had just visited friends in Sioux Falls when she was heading west back home when the fatality occurred on March 5, 2019. Her daughter – and my barista last week – Abriana Scholl, was 20 years old when her mother passed.

Her last interaction with her mom was when she ‘Liked’ the image of the three flowers she had posted hours earlier on Facebook. Her friend – the one who was to receive the tattoo – insisted that Abriana, or Bri, use the drawing on herself as a reminder of her mom.

So, she did it, and it’s a daily reminder of her mom, her passion for the arts, her creativity, and a deep appreciation of everything her mother passed on to her.

A touch of her skin each day brings her a little closer to her mom.

That’s heavy stuff for a 26-year-old, and for as much as it hurts to hear her story, it’s also inspiring to see what joy a tattoo can bring.

I’ll never judge.