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Tattoo tales: Finding ‘gratitude amongst grief’

We asked readers to send us photos of their tattoos and tell us the stories behind them. Those stories told of joy, accomplishment, friendship, love, remembrance and sadness. Today, we print a selection of them.

We asked readers to send us photos of their tattoos and tell us the stories behind them.

Those stories told of joy, accomplishment, friendship, love, remembrance and sadness. Today, we print a selection of them.

If you want to tell the story of your tattoo, send it with a high-resolution photo to [email protected].

On March 4, 2017, my brother, Matthew Wade Allan, was killed by a fentanyl poisoning at the age of 25. Matthew was a remarkable young man whose strength of spirit inspired all those around him. He had been grappling with alcoholism and drug addiction since the age of 14. In 2015, Matthew decided to pursue treatment and was soon after admitted to Cedars Recovery Centre in Cobble Hill. I will forever be thankful for this piece of his journey because it was here that Matthew was able to once more meet his true self, outside of the throes of addiction.

Throughout his treatment and aftercare, I witnessed my brother fight with everything he had for a life free of addiction. It was a humbling exposure that has since shaped my definition of strength. Addicts in recovery are some of the strongest people I have ever known. They have fought themselves through hell and will continue this fight every single day for the rest of their lives in order to sustain sobriety. No one chooses to become an addict. Addiction is a developmental disorder, not a weakness of character and not a disease. Matthew suffered a brief relapse following his first stay at Cedars and readmitted himself shortly thereafter.

All of us at one point or another make mistakes in life, but it takes a special sort of courage and perseverance to stand up in spite of them. For this reason, my brother will always be my greatest hero. Tragically, fentanyl took away Matthew’s chance to stand up. His was one of 525 lives taken by fentanyl in saʴý alone between January and May of this year.

I had this tattoo drawn by a friend of Matthew’s whom he had met in recovery. It sits near my heart and reads: “So dawn goes down to day, Nothing gold can stay.” I chose this verse from a poem by Robert Frost that speaks to the precious impermanence of life. It helps me to find gratitude amongst my grief for the short time I had with Matthew.

— Angela Allan

When my retired sled dog Cola passed away suddenly in October, I knew I needed a way to honour him. The talented Dave at Carne Tattoo did a sketch based on a Christmas photo of my two boys. The photo always makes me laugh, because Cola’s face had such a bewildered expression. His eyes were usually crossed and his ears were usually up, but he was so taken aback by Santa, he didn’t know what to do.

Cola came from Whistler, as part of the investigation into the sled-dog massacre that happened after the Olympics. I volunteered with the SPCA, and then later with the Victoria Humane Society, when the surviving sled dogs were rescued and re-homed. These dogs are amazingly resilient, living their lives on chains for up to 23 hours a day. Their adjustment to living in a house takes time and patience, but it’s worth it.

I’m now part of a growing network of advocates working to educate the public on the horrors of the sled-dog industry. I promised Cola on the day he died that I wouldn’t ever stop fighting for him. This tattoo serves two purposes: It reminds me every day of that promise and it makes me chuckle at his lovable, goofy face.

All my tattoos have a special meaning (I have seven, one of which is a very large cover-up), but this one is particularly special to me.

— Heather Raines

My two best friends, whom I knew since high school, died at a young age. I was the best man at both their weddings. I got a drum-set tattoo in remembrance of my friend Dan, who was an accomplished drummer. I am about to get another tattoo in memory of Reg. It will be a tattoo with his fastpitch uniform number, back when he played on the Victoria Budget men’s fastpitch team.

I got the tattoos because it’s my way of keeping their memories alive. People ask me often about the reasons for the tats.

— Wally MacLean

I have several tattoos, but this is my newest and favourite. The doll symbolizes my mother’s heritage, which was Eastern European, and the owl and the pussycat are from the poem of the same name, which our mum read to us as small children, and it was our favourite.

Sasha, from Bully Boy Tattoos in Duncan, incorporated both ideas beautifully into this work of art.

— Robin Duke