When Ken had been gone about six months, it started feeling like the world was just whirling on by, having forgotten that my sweet husband ever existed. People were going on with their lives and everything (for them) was back to “normal”. Well, our “normal” was GONE! I wanted to jump up and down and scream, “Did you forget that my husband died?! Have you forgotten that Ken Lunsford was here and that we loved him?!” It hurt my feelings terribly to think that the place Ken occupied on this earth could be swallowed up in the hum-drum of every day life. I started looking for some way that I could say to the world, “Yes, Ken was here! He loved me and I loved him. He was IMPORTANT!” Here is the crazy part...I got a tattoo on the inside of my left wrist. Me, middle-aged, grey-haired, fat woman, got a tattoo. It is a heart with wings (my “heart” is in heaven now) with Ken’s name on a sunburst behind it. When people see it, they always ask me the same two questions: 1) “Is that REAL?”, and 2) “Did it hurt?” To which I reply, “Yes, and yes”.
I can understand people being surprised by it because it surprises me as well. But, now, when it feels like the world has forgotten Ken existed, I can look at the tattoo, and touch it and say, “He was here...I remember, even if the world doesn’t”. I guess I needed my body to be marked for life because Ken’s love marked my heart for life.
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