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I have two already, one on my ankle that my sister got for me when I was 18. When asked what it means--it's 3 stars, 3 sizes, 3 colors--I tell people it's a sister thing. Three girls, three sizes, three different colored spirits. It works. I also have a tat on my lower back, that I share with my Cosmic Twin, which, in addition to it's more obvious representations, means a lot to me.

I don't think anyone quite believes it until they have a tattoo of their own, but once you have one, it's kind of hard to stop wanting more. Before their first or second tat, you'll find most people saying "I've got this great [whatever] that I want to get tattooed on my back/ankle/arm." After two tats, I have now reached the point where I'm saying "I want another tattoo, but I don't know what I want to get." An important distinction.

I want my next tattoo to really mean something to me. Tattoos, after all, are more forever than diamonds. I would love something that represented where I come from, but finding a symbol that screams northern Michigan is a lot harder than you might think. And I'm not exactly going to fit "Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam circumspice" around a bicep or anything.

And then it occured to me today, as I was thinking about a conversation I had with my grandmother a few years before she died. She'd mentioned that she had always wanted to get a butterfly tattoo. At the time, my father laughed and thought she was being ridiculous, but I always harbored the theory that if she wasn't being completely serious with me, she was at least trying to relate to me and be as supportive and kind as possible. Defining traits of a woman whom I greatly miss.

What better tattoo to get than the butterfly my grandmother always wanted? And if anyone thinks that a tattoo isn't exactly the classiest of tributes, then they can take away that it would at least serve as a constant reminder to me to be a little kinder, a little more giving; a little more like my grandmother.

I'll let you know if I get inked.