Upper back tattoo of the words Your battle is my battle above a pink ribbon inside swirling fine line butterfly wings, with the word Mom written on the ribbon.

Pink ribbon butterfly with 'Your battle is my battle'

Lettering · Back · Mixed · Photo

A black script quote reading Your battle is my battle sits above a pink ribbon with the word Mom written across it in black. The ribbon forms the body of a butterfly whose wings are built from delicate pink swirls and fine outlines. The tattoo is centred on the upper back, with the skin tone and a partly visible blue tattoo at the left edge.

Lettering Fine line Back Butterfly Quote Swirl Mom Script

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bus from Maerdy stops at the top of the hill every morning at twenty past seven, and you are always on it with a flask of stewed tea and your late father's pit lamp knocking against your knee. Nobody says much on the way down the valley. The colliery has been shut eleven years, but the men still walk the same road with their hands in their pockets, as if the shift whistle might go.

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Your mother sits by the window on the third floor of the hospital in Merthyr, where you can see the rain over the car park. She has never once asked you to stop worrying. Instead she asks whether the leeks came up on the allotment, and whether Huw from the chapel is still going on at the council about the bins.

Carys from the women's group has been sewing pink ribbons onto the chapel banners, a dozen of them, each one tied in a neat bow. Your mother laughed when she saw them and said the fuss was worse than the illness. Then she asked you to fetch the one with the butterfly stitched in the corner, because it reminded her of the lace curtains her own mam used to hang in the back kitchen.

On Thursday the consultant says the scan is clearer. You sit on the edge of the bed and hold the hand that once knocked coal dust off your collar, and you say the words you practised on the bus: your battle is my battle. She tuts and tells you to stop being soft. But when you leave, she has pinned the ribbon to the inside of her gown, right over her heart, and its wings lie spread across the pale blanket as if they mean to carry her out of there.