Saturday, October 8, 2016

Gladie's Story~



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Meet Gladie:


I am 85 years young, and was 76 when I got my cat tattoo, my one and only tattoo. I have no plans for any more. 

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I got married at the age of 17 and became a Mom at the age of 19. I have six kids, ten grandkids, and 16 great grandkids.
 
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Besides being a Mom, I also took courses through the years: cake decorating, photography, oil painting, tailoring, out door trainer, survival, black powder shooting, tomahawk throwing (I was a sharpshooter and marksman, on both of these), camping, Red Cross first-aid and CPR, effective speaking, roller skating, hiking and back packing, beauty consultant and nursing. I’m a certified Belly dancer and hula dancer. 

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I am a domestic abuse survivor, speaking at high schools with teenagers and senior centers, talking to the elderly. Yes, I underwent special training for this, and I also was an on call person for rape victims, in the hospital, all as a volunteer.










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About her tattoo: 

Now how did I decide to get a tat at 76?  Well, this lady came into WalMart, where I worked as a greeter, and I spotted her cat tattoo and fell in love with it. She said she would take me to get it done.


I told her,  “No. I don't want a tat.”


Every week she inquired: are you ready yet?


“No. I don't want a tat.”



This went on for almost a year, and finally I decided I had to have that cat tat.


There were teenagers having tattoos done while I was getting mine done, watching me with great anticipation--is she going to yell, cry, scream, what?

Well after giving birth to six babies, getting a tattoo was a piece of cake. 



Almost forgot to tell you, before I had the actual tat done, I had named my future cat tattoo “Forest” after the kitten of a friend of mine. Guess what the artist’s name turned out to be? Forrest.

No one knew about my tattoo for a while--not even my co-workers--till the woman who took me to get it told her father that she took a 65-year-old woman to get her first tat.

When I told her I was 76, she told all her friends, and sent them into WalMart to see  the 76-year-old, with her tat!



The cat was now out of the bag (no pun intended). Co-workers had lots to say, COOL, WOW, YOU ROCK, WHEN DID YOU GET THAT?

Still, my family and friends didn't know. No, it wasn’t a secret; I am just not one to show off. My 12-year-old granddaughter was the first to notice it.  

“Is that a real tattoo, Gram?”
“Yes.”
“WAY COOL! Does MOM know?”
“No.”
“Oh, wait till I tell her.”

No biggie. My grand-kids were more impressed with their cool Gram than their mother was.





 

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