Choosing a Semicolon, Not a Period: a Tattoo for My Grandmothers

Here's the thing about tattoos – once you get one, you'll want another, and so on, and so on.

Several years ago I felt that itch (not literally, that happens after you get the tattoo while it's healing). I knew I wanted some new ink. I am also fond of symmetry, and I had a tattoo on my left forearm, but my right forearm was bare. Something needed to got there. But what?

All of my tattoos reference family in some way. Then it found me. Both my grandmothers died by suicide. I needed to honor them.

Family history of mental illness

The current theory is that my father's mother had undiagnosed bipolar disorder. She was an unstable presence in my dad's life, but also a source of comfort and inspiration. Being a frustrated actress, she was the person who got him - her favorite -  focused on theater, a love he passed down to me.

She raised a middle class family in the 40s and 50s, an age when there was little understanding of, much less sympathy for mental health issues. You just didn't talk about things like that. She took her life while my father was on his honeymoon with my mother.

My other grandmother also died by suicide

My mother's mother was not as beset by a tormented mind. And while she loved me and taught me to swim, she was also an amiable narcissist and left the impression that she was forever slightly disappointed with her surroundings and the people in them. She and her husband, my grandfather who I called "Bob" as a child (it's what I heard her call him) had a deep bond.

Towards the end of their lives they endured a series of financial collapses that led them to subsidized housing in Missoula, Montana, where my uncle lives. After Bob died, she moved to Boulder to be closer to my mom, who looked for a senior living site to place her in. Grammy hated those places and missed her husband desperately, and one day, a few weeks after my eldest son was born, she ended it.

Another path with depression is possible

Perhaps because of this legacy I have developed a hard-line approach to suicide: it's not an option for me, ever. My own father's suicidal ideation hung like dark cloud over my family for years and I do not want to be a part of perpetuating that dark energy.

My father is very much alive, and came through deep depressive episodes with the help of medication and talk therapy. That's the legacy I choose.

Semicolon tattoo for suicide awareness

I did some research on mental health awareness symbols and discovered that the semicolon is a suicide awareness symbol. It's a sentence which could have ended, but didn't. And the arrow represents how sometimes we need to be pulled back before we can let go and fly.

All my tattoos are in a style called "tribal": black ink in bold geometric patterns. I found an artist I liked and he came up with the design. When he showed it to me I was blown away. He put both their initials in the arrow: LL and JD. Just before he started applying the ink I yelled "stop!" I realized he had the tail of the semicolon going the wrong direction. Crisis averted, he proceeded. It took a couple of hours.

My tattoo is a reminder

I honor my grandmothers because they suffered and couldn't find the help they needed. They were both extraordinary people: creative, passionate, loving.

The tattoo reminds me I want to help anyone suffering the way they did find their way to light, and life. It also reminds me that we evolve, and that I live in age where we do talk about things like that. And for that, I am deeply grateful.