A MENTAL HEALTH STORYTELLING SERIES
“After I started writing Matthew’s eulogy, I texted one of my closest girlfriends. Her wife’s name is Michael, she’s from Ireland, and she’s a tattoo artist.
Matthew loved tattoos. He loved his mom’s tattoos, and he used to love putting fake tattoos all over himself. I’d put them on his forehead and stuff when his hair was growing back after chemo.
I’m a makeup artist, and I have to cover tattoos for my job. The week before Matthew died, there was a girl on set who had a tattoo of pizza. Just a slice of cheesy ass pepperoni pizza. It looked like a cartoon. It was the funniest tattoo – dead center of her arm. And I was like, ‘My nephew would love this!’
The next day, I was working on a different commercial set, and I was covering another tattoo. This time I was covering beautiful flowers. And I asked, ‘What are the flowers for? They're so beautiful and delicate and intricate.’ She explained they are her children's birth flowers.
And I had a thought: ‘Maybe I'll get both my nephews’ birth flowers. That's such a beautiful idea.’
Two days later, Matthew passed. And I knew I wanted to get a tattoo in his honor.
For some people, what brings them comfort is going and sitting by a headstone, or having a little prayer area, or having their loved one’s ashes. But that’s not for me. I just can't. So I texted my girlfriend Michael and said, ‘Hey would you be willing to do a Lily of the Valley tattoo? That's Matthew’s birth flower.’
She messaged me back immediately: ‘Not only will I do it, but you should know that is the state flower in Ireland. And I listened to a song called Lily of the Valley every day that my grandpa used to sing to me.’ It felt meant to be.”
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