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.
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.
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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