After my grandma died in November 06. I began to doubt my faith. I really thought I would still be able to feel her spirit and I just didn't. I tried and tried and I just didn't. It was the hardest time of my life and that's saying a lot considering my wild teenage years. I still went to church but I just felt kind of dead inside. During this hard time I got this wild idea that I wanted a tattoo...I debated this in my head for almost a year and I finally gave in and got one. To say now that I regret it is partly true. But, now that it's there it is a reminder to me that my testimony is fragile and I must continually feed it....It has been hard and I continue to struggle to this day but I heard somewhere that you have to "fake it, til you make it". I know in my heart that I'm where I need to be. I know Heavenly Father loves me even when I'm a dink. Each Sunday I go to church and I feel my faith growing again. I miss my grandma more than words can say....I think of her everyday and I still get teary eyed sometimes. I have to believe that I will get to be with her again someday and she will tell me stories of what she's been doing and learning. In the meantime I will continue to miss her and I will honor her memory by being the best person I can be.
My tattoo is on my foot...it's a small blue butterfly.