Traditional style tattoo on a forearm of a hand holding blue forget-me-not flowers in a blue and yellow base, with the words FORGET ME NOT in black lettering beside it.

Forget-me-not hand and lettering on a forearm

Traditional · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A pale hand, shaded in black and grey, rises from a blue and yellow base and holds a bouquet of blue forget-me-not flowers with a pink bloom and small buds. The words FORGET ME NOT run vertically in bold black block lettering to the right of the hand. The linework is bold and outlined, with solid blue fills and a yellow band at the base, set against the plain skin of the inner forearm.

Traditional Botanical Lettering Forearm Hand Forget-me-not Flower Lettering Bouquet

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Brother Osric had the garden of Saint Wenna's before he had the bell, and he kept it the way he kept his prayers, without asking anyone whether it was wanted. The forget-me-nots came up along the wall each spring whether he sowed them or not, blue as a vestment, and the abbot called them weeds until the day the bishop's clerk fainted in the cloister and was revived with a sprig of them under his nose.

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The trouble came in the hard winter, when the abbey's dead lay unburied for a week because the ground would not open. Osric went out each morning with a spade he could not lift and a basket of dried seed heads. He talked to the frozen earth as though it were a stubborn ox. On the seventh morning he found a girl from the village sitting against the wall, her palms open in her lap, asking whether the flowers would last under snow.

He told her they would not. She said that was no reason not to bring them, and they went together to the grave of the unnamed man. She laid a bloom on the stone and pressed the earth down with her wrist. Osric wrote the man's name on a scrap of vellum, the way his master had taught him to label the beds, and pinned it to the wall beside the blue flowers.

When the thaw came the vellum had blown away, but the flowers had not. Osric cut a stem and held it out on his open palm, the way you might offer bread to a horse. The girl took it from his hand as if it had always been hers to take, and she did not ask him to write anything down.