Dear Dad,

I've started at least ninety letters to you, in the nine years you've been gone; each letter deeper and different than the last. Each letter never complete. I'm ready to finish this time, Dad. This is the one. With my words, I'd like to take you by the hand as we look out over the landscape of my thoughts and the layout of my life. I am speaking to you with an open heart, I hope you can hear me with an open soul, wherever you are...

Dad, when you died, I was certain I'd never forgive you for leaving me. I was certain you were angry with me, that I was bad, that you faked your own death just to get away from me. I was certain I wouldn't remember the way I used to look at you when I was a little girl. I was certain I'd never be able to forget how hard it was to be your Daughter the last 5 years of your life. How your deteriorating health and your broken spirit was too much for me and I didn't know what to do. I didn't recognize you. After you died, I was certain I'd close my eyes and only see your sad, lost, hopeless, lonely brown eyes. I tried not to think about you for a while.

Dad, I now realize none of those certainties could possibly be true, because even and especially in your absence, you take such good care of me. You keep giving me the freedom and the room and the time and the resources and the compassion and the courage and the love to become who I am meant to be. My life has looked like anything but the single, straight, direct line of purpose I thought it ought to be.

Dad, you've given me the most wild opportunity to become a Hummingbird; free to move from tree to tree, flower to flower, field to field, trying this, trying that. I bring an idea from here to over there, where I learn something else, leave it in the night and take to something different. I am an acrobatic flyer, Dad. I can go backwards and upside down and I can change direction. I've created an incredibly rich and complex Hummingbird existence for myself, Dad. You'd be so proud.

Dad, my Hummingbird tattoo reminds me of some things- it reminds me that sometimes dying is the answer; sometimes people have to leave, to make space for something else that otherwise wouldn't be there. Sometimes death brings us back to life, grief paves the way to joy, pain helps us know comfort when we see it, fear helps us know love when we feel it. This hummingbird tattoo, much like my grief, was the most beautiful, uncomfortable, and worrisome open wound I could imagine. Over time, it has healed. Daddy, I have healed.

Dad, my Hummingbird helps me remember you; your small, soft hands with the scar on your palm from when you were ten and foolish. The hands that used to gently brush and blow dry my hair when I was little. The hands that held the giant, whiny video camera in the front row of every talent show. And the hands that held up a box of tampons in the store and shouted, "Price Check!" and I'd hide my face with my hands and want to die.

My tattoo helps me remember the sound of your voice; the voice that told me wild and made-up stories of far away places, (like Woodstock). The voice that taught me about the laws of buoyancy, the voice that did an amazing "Ursula", when we'd reenact The Little Mermaid in under 30 seconds. Don't pretend you don't remember.

My Hummingbird reminds me of that time you picked my up from school and I was crying and I said I have no friends and you sat next to me on the wooden, splintered bench and you looked at my eyes and you said, I your friend.

My tattoo makes me remember how wonderful but scary and dangerous it is to be the absolute and the one and only in someone's life, like I was for you.

Dad, this Hummingbird lets me forgive you, for all the times you were frustrated and impatient and unkind and the times you harshly tested my love for you and the times you made me doubt your love for me.

Mostly, Dad, my Hummingbird makes me promise that

where I am selfish, I'm gonna be giving.

And where I am fearful, I'm gonna be brave.

And where I am wrong, I'm gonna be right.

And where I am dark, I'm gonna be light.

When I look at my arm, I can know that

yesterday I was weak, and today I'm gonna be strong.

Yesterday I was weak, and today I'm gonna be strong.

Lastly, my beautiful, colorful, incredibly permanent, watercolor Hummingbird tattoo urges me to be in relationship with the ages, in honor of my ancestors and in service to my descendants.

Dad. Thank you. Thank you for giving me the most beautiful wings to become the Hummingbird I am meant to be. Thank you for leaving me in physical ways and for staying in soulful ones. I love you and I feel you and I honor you more and more, every day.

All my love, for all my life, with my whole heart, forever and ever and ever...

-Erica

"Yes, I'll take a shot", I answer. The creamy taste of coffee and liquor run down my throat, eager to numb me enough to make it through the next hour. But numb I am not. I am all here; nerve endings, proprioceptors and brain cells alert, and surprisingly willing. I think about my Dad, then I don't. I think about going to India in four weeks, then I don't. I think about tattoos and my Jewish heritage, then I very quickly don't. My thoughts are drowned as I hear the first buzzing of the needle. It's coming for me. Erica, relax your jaw and for God's sake, open your eyes all the way...you look like Gilbert Gottfried. It swipes my fair skin for the first time, then a thousand more times, this is no joke. Erica, breathe. Yellow, green, teal, brown, I can see my tree coming together. If anything, it tickles. If anything, it tickles. If anything, it tickles. If anything, it tickles. That's what I keep telling myself...

Though I never planned on having a tattoo, I figured if I did, it would be because I'd finally had it all figured out; that life and the ecosystem in which I live made perfect sense and I was so sure that what I was about to put on my body was the only thing that could soulfully represent who I am and why I am here. I suppose by the time that happens, I'd be on my death bed and no matter what design I settled on, it would just look like Madonna eating corn through a picket fence. (No offense, Madonna). So now, at the age of twenty-eight, creamy white-girl skin still pulled taught, breasts still relatively perky and I've still got most of my brain cells, this feels like a great time.

I know I've permanently marked my body with a needle being dragged across my skin, filling it with ink and yet I didn't give it multitudes of thought. I have not been thinking about this design for five years or even five months. But I realize this Evergreen Tree on the inside of my ankle will forever represent this time and space in my life; twenty-eight years old, about to embark on a trip to India with my best friend, who reminded me that tattoos are just another way of documenting where you are at a certain point in life. So there, I'm just starting a new journal. Right?

Without further ado, this is the meaning of my tattoo. It is based on the ancient Druid Horoscope, which is represented in trees. I am an Evergreen...

In the dead of winter, when the countryside was dull, grey and blanketed with snow, the Evergreen brought color and life to the landscape with its cold and austere beauty. The Evergreen is symbolic of friendship, resilience, perceptiveness, longevity and honesty.

Evergreen people are very sensory-oriented and are drawn to dim lights and the aroma of perfumes.

Evergreen people love antique jewelry and other old things and they enjoy being a part of majestic celebrations. Despite this last attraction, and because they are capricious and not easy to live with, they often experience a strong sense of isolation, even among large groups of people. Those born under this proud and resolute sign do not give up until they've achieved their goal and they are not likely to fall under anyone's influence.

Evergreens can be very demanding and hard to negotiate with. Knowing and understanding their true value, they always try to get the most out of life and usually they manage to achieve it.

If an Evergreen ever falls in love, the experience shakes her/him to their core. Their love can be truly unconditional.

When Evergreen people have to choose between different options, they usually pick the most difficult path. That's because deep down they believe it is their destiny to create difficult situations for themselves. But whatever happens, Evergreens are very noble and one can fully rely on them. They remain optimistic through every endeavor and never lose their faith. However, Evergreen people usually neglect the small things because they prefer to focus on the big picture instead.

Hummingbird: A Letter to my Dad

Evergreen: My First Tattoo