This secret was one of the postcards sent in that's updated every Sunday on PostSecret. This was the response under it, which I couldn't have written better myself:
"The tattoo doesn't smile at me, it can't talk to me and I can't make it proud. My tattoo couldn't fill an empty seat when I graduated from college, and it can't walk me down the aisle when I get married."
I got teary eyed reading the response. 14 years ago this November I watched a heart attack take my fathers life. In losing a loved one, especially a parent or close family member, it doesn't ever get easier. The pain never goes away. You learn to start each day with your head up high and deal with the pain. Every day you get stronger in dealing with the pain.
I do have a rememberence tattoo, but I'd prefer to have my Father. After my father died I would look up to the stars, for many many years--every night. And when there were stars in the sky (which in the country is almost every night) I would pick the prettiest one. The star I picked was my father's star, in a way, it's the way I imagined Heaven. I have a 3-star tattoo, one star for myself, and one for my brother & for my sister. One of the reasons I am excited to move out of DC is that I don't see the stars anymore.