like son like mother
“Mom, did you ASK Noah if you could get that tattoo? -Anna Rose
Dusty, Noah’s tattoo artist said this was the smallest I should go. Over time, fine lines melt, becoming mush. Listen to the artist working on you or for you. Knowing best their craft, trust to receive the perfect outcome.
A lots happened…….
I didn’t go to Tracey’s Place of Hope (yet) because the week I was planning to go, Noah went to Houston for court. So, like a mother, I changed plans. That story another time, it deserves its own show.
All Steinle’s went to Minnesota for Christmas. Randy (Noah’s dad), Beth (Noah’s step-mom), Josiah(25), Anna Rose (22), Autumn (17), Finn (the dog) and me. We’d make this Christmas his best, last Christmas dubbed his worst.
Renting a house like a normal family (misfits), we hibernated from the -13 temps, living on monkey bread, creamed eggs, yoga and lost time.
Memories staying on, bodies left the 27th. Mine another week, lessened the leave.
Of course I asked if I could get the tattoo.
Life rises up to meet those brave enough to walk it. Wake up daily and choose yes. Choose family. True family-not last names, share hearts. Bonded in spirit, love’s one vein.
Six months sober is my son.
Heart, limbic brain, solar plexus, spirit, screams. I never tire.