Fleurs-de-lis. Life and light. And poetry.


Which is enough

It took years of thinking about it, and a year of talking about it.  So, when — at my  birthday dinner at Hidden Tiger, while I was sipping a very fine martini– my son gave me a card and said:  “I’ll take care of it “,  it was time to get  it done.  A tattoo. The appointment was with local artist and co-founder of Graffiti Gallery, Pat Lazo.

The Fleurs-de-lis is for my French heritage.  My father’s family was from the area around Paris.  My mother’s mother’s family from Ardeche- in the Auvergne-Rhone-Alpes region in south-central France. It’s a symbol for light and life and French royalty.   And, how could I resist:   De Lis (le)

The line is translated from a poem by a young man I knew. My son has the same line:  Alive Which is Enough (in English) on his back.

The young man  died over ten years ago at the age of nineteen.  At home.  While his parents watched the World Series in the family room.  My son read a eulogy at the service.  

Another young man   – part of the same cohort of best friends and friends of best friends died just over a year ago.  At the Forks, while riding his bicycle with friends.  I was at that service too.  

And inbetween, so many in that circle of friends (and oh yes, I’m well aware- far beyond) have been lost to us. Young men, especially.  And here I am, Alive, with a damn fine life, people to love and be loved by and Lord knows that is enough.


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