I’ve had people ask me this, because of the lengths I’ve got to to memorialise Husband. They’re permanent.
The tattoo on my wrist that tells a story. A story of our union, a story of his love for me, a story of his presence, a story of my continuing love for him.
Also, the diamond I had made from his ashes. This diamond is set into a ring sitting alongside my engagement diamond. I wear that proudly on my left hand, I carry him physically with me always.
When you lose someone who is part of your soul, you’ll always carry them with you. In your memories, in your heart space, in the things you’ll do forever after as a result of having that person in your life at one point.
I have those things, I do those things but I’ve also permanently branded myself too.
Not once have I regretted it nor any of the things I’ve done to show him, wherever he may be that my love for him is and was extraordinary and will be never ending.
Others, others that haven’t lost a piece of them, have asked me the following;
“But… What if you get married again? What will that man think of your continuing love for Husband in that tattoo or that ring?”
My answer is simple.
Any man that comes into my world from now until the end of my days will always have to deal with the real issue aside from the superficial. The real issue being that once upon a time, I was very much in love with a man who completed me in many ways. That I had a chapter where I was so frigging happy. That during this lifetime there was a period where I had ‘The One’ and it didn’t fall apart, he disappeared.
Any man that decides to be with me will have to deal with the fact that this happened, regardless of whether I had a tattoo or a diamond. They’re just superficial. They’re for me.
Any man who ends up being with me in my next chapter needs to be man enough to take on my past and if he isn’t, then he isn’t the one.
So no, I don’t think my tattoo will be an issue. No, I don’t think a man will have a problem with my diamond. Because if he does, then… he’ll have an issue with me in general. I am not the ink I have on my wrist. I am not the jewellery I wear on my hand. I am just me, me with my life experience, me with my past filled with love, me with my eagerness to continue living despite the loss I’ve endured.