Wings

By: Young Person

About 6 months ago I had two tiny wings tattooed half way down my spine. Sometimes when people see them they think it's pretentious. Maybe it is, but I had them done for me, and I don't really care what other people think. They are not there because I think of myself as angelic, nor is it because of any childhood fascination with Faeries. I had them done when I had to leave someone I loved very much.

One day when he was very sick we played a game. I gave him a set of invisible colouring pencils and told him to draw his favourite place in the whole world in his mind. He spent hours perfecting his paradise and he used to tell me all about it. His paradise was complete with a skateboard ramp, ice cream vendor and toyshop.

On the day we had to part, he sat on my lap and cried. I didn't know what to say that would make him feel better. He looked up at me and said, 'Mama, You know my special place? Well you have a tiny pair of wings and whenever you want to see me, just fly there and we can play. If I want to see you can I come to your special place?'

Sometimes children see things so clearly. Although I don't pick him up from playgroup or make him oatmeal any more, he's still in my life. In a kooky kind of way, having these wings helps me to stay close to people even though they aren't around now.

I have my special place too, and when I miss people I spread my wings and fly there to visit them. Everyone has wings, perhaps just not in black ink. Those who aren't forgotten are not really gone.