Updated
Mar 11, 2019
Why I Chose To Get A Tattoo Instead Of A Face-Lift For My 80th Birthday
Why do so many choose to deceive or alter, rather than be proud of, our years?
Guest Writer
Graciela sits atop my right bicep. She is a tattoo of a seahorse the size of my palm. She has an eye trimmed with a thick lash, a rose-colored tail that twists to the left and a crown of swirly arrows. Three times a day, I carefully lather my fresh tattoo with antibacterial soap and pat her dry. I grin as I perform this procedure, as if I were a postpartum mom tending to my newborn child.