A lot of people know that I have a “thing” for dragonflies, but they don’t really know why. Why the dragonfly tattoo? Why is it purple? What’s up with the tribal? Why all the dragonfly “stuff”. To explain the tattoo and the symbolism behind it, I would have to explain what the tattoo was for and the woman who inspired it.
In 1998, my cousins Heather and Holly Mattke passed away from Cystic Fibrosis. What is Cystic Fibrosis?
Holly on June 24 and Heather on August 13. It was truly the end of a long lifetime battle with disease. I hate Cystic Fibrosis. The disease makes mockery of those who have it. Although I can say, the girls had CF, but it didn’t have them. If you had asked anyone that I ever knew if they would have rather have been unborn, they would have told you “no”. As painful as life could have been for them, they would not have missed the experience of living for the world.
“I could have missed the pain, but I would have had to miss the dance,” The Dance; Tony Arata.
During the times of great illness and the times when they were on the brink of death, only to come back, it never got easy watching them suffer. Watching them take pill after pill and then follow it up with “the vest” never got easy. There’s so much truth to the statement “At least you’ve got your health,” Anyone who has watched a loved one fade away like this understands what an emotional toll this takes on the people who love them.
I hate Cystic Fibrosis. Hate it.
In 1998 I was also very active with Cystic Fibrosis Awareness. I had a website that started out being for Heather and Holly and also for educational purposes. I was chairmen of the local Great Strides Walk to benefit the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. I did this up until 2003. In 1998, I was also very active on a list-serv called Cystic-L. My goal at that time was to network with families, gain information and spread awareness.
It was on Cystic-L that I eventually became very close friends with a woman named Alicia Lynch. It was uncanny how a woman that I had never met could have so much in common with me and how we agreed that it felt like we had known each other our entire lives. Over time, Ali and I became very close and I considered her to be my sister.
Ali and I could talk about anything and everything. Hopes, fears, men, relationships, life. We eventually met in person and made plans and actually got to do a lot of things together. We did and we had a blast. Among the list is driving to Texas to get a tattoo because they were illegal at that time in Oklahoma.
I got the honor of being with Ali the first time that she had ever seen snow. We went shopping and spent too much money. We ate high calorie food and blamed it on Ali’s need to gain weight. We toured the University of Notre Dame. We spent hours on the phone and still found things to write to each other about.
Ali had a lot of dreams and goals for herself. She wasted no time throwing herself into most challenges and in her “Ali style” was prepared to tell you how she felt if you got in her way. She had a bright and bubbly personality and drew people to her everywhere she went. Ali also had a mischievous side that surprised a lot of people. I was always amazed at how she could blow people off and how things didn’t bother her.
Ali’s dream was to become a police officer. However, due to her illness she was unable to be hired as a police officer. So instead, Ali became a reserve officer for the Creek County Sheriff’s Department ( Oklahoma ) Ali worked as a police officer and she did it without being paid. Ali also worked full time in the Jail and quite often in their Transportation Division.
Ali’s mother, Dorothy, relayed to friends at Ali’s funeral that she was amazed at how well Ali was able to handle herself when she was barely over 100 pounds, carrying a gun and transporting prisoners. Ali also worked part time as a dispatcher for the Creek County Sheriff’s Department. When Ali wasn’t doing one thing, she was doing another. Ali loved this life and appreciated her opportunity to be involved in law enforcement and to be an officer.
Ali had a greater warrior spirit than most men three times her size.
Ali began to get tired. Sometimes the body is weaker than the soul. She admitted herself to hospice and didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t that she had given up, she was tired. She had fought a long and very hard battle. It was time. She was tired. When she called me to talk about her funeral, she told me that she was in the hospital again, with an emphasis on AGAIN.
Ali told me to find my copy of The Dragonfly Story and that she wanted me to read it at her funeral and to make sure that I had various odds and ends worked out with her mother. She also wanted to know if I was going to be able to come to Oklahoma and if I had vacation days to use. When I asked her why she was talking about her funeral so in depth at this time, she told me that she had to go and that she would see me later.
I never spoke to her again. I was notified the day after her death, by a friend, that she had passed away.
Her family had no idea what was going on until Ali was beyond the point of return. She passed away on May 19, 2003 at the age of 29. If you know anything at all about Cystic Fibrosis, you know that living to be 29 years of age is phenomenal. Ali was an old lady. She was once described as a beautiful 29 year old woman in an 89 year old woman’s body.
As I had promised her, I worked out the details and then began the drive south to Oklahoma. I attended her funeral in my uniform. I sat along with her friends and family at the service. I cried and laughed and then cried again as I sat listening to the stories and watching the images as they came across a giant screen in the church. There we were in another time smiling for the camera together. I appreciated the fact that I was included as part of everything.
They played “Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)” by Green Day.
“So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind.
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time.
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial.
For what it’s worth it was worth all the while.
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right.
I hope you had the time of your life. “
When Ali died, she was given a Police Officer’s Funeral, with the exception of some details. It was amazing. I was so grateful to the Sheriff’s Department and the city police who gave Ali this honor. To me, it was a really big deal and I know that she would have been moved by the gesture.
Even more amazing was the small “ceremony” that was held after the service where balloons were released in her honor. All of the balloons floated away together with the exception of one balloon that floated off on its own in the other direction. It was purple. Ali’s favorite color. Think what you will, but I know it was her.
Much like the Story Of the Dragonfly, who had to leave the waterbugs behind and fly away, Ali had to leave us to this world behind and fly away. It was so amazing and such a real symbolic moment to witness. I will never forget it. I remember standing with a mixed group of friends, family and officers, spellbound at what had just happened.
Ali continues to be a source of strength in my own life. Even still, when I face a challenge I remind myself of the way that Ali grabbed the bull by the horns and jumped into situations without a second thought, or so it appeared. If I convince myself that I can’t do something, I am quickly reminded of the time that Ali told me herself “If I can do it, you can do it,” and “Your life is too short to live in fear,”
Now everyone understands my “thing” with dragonflies. I consider them to be very significant. There have been times when I have seen dragonflies in places where you should not be seeing them. I consider things like that to be signs from my dear friend. A sweet greeting of hello, keep your chin up. Everything will be okay!
On one occasion, I was standing in my kitchen having a seriously bad day not too long after Dominic was born and had finally came home from the hospital. I looked up to see a small dragonfly stuck to the screen of the window over our kitchen sink. It stayed there for a long time. I looked away, looked back and it was gone.
I love her and I miss her. She truly is one of the greatest people I have ever known. I think of her often and I never spare a chance to talk about her. Ali was an impressive woman. It is my wish that I can live my life to be half the person she was. Ali lived a life to the fullest while at times, I am guilty of living at a fraction. I do my best and sometimes I do it in her honor.
When things get rough I can always hear her reminding me, ” If I can do it, you can do it.” May 19, marks eleven years since the date of her death. I had originally planned to post this blog on the date of her death but decided that I would not. Ali’s memory is about her life and not that of her death.
Now that you know the story of the woman who inspired the tattoo, I can tell you about it. The dragonfly is a symbol of life after death. I will be posting the Story of the Dragonfly on my blog in the next couple of days. The tribal is a copy of the tribal that Ali had around her own tattoo. The dragonfly is purple because Ali and I liked the color purple.
I drew up my own design and took it to the artist who did an AMAZING job on it. I wish I knew where he was now so he could complete another one for me in the future. I won’t post a photo of the work because I do not want another person to copy it. I just feel like if anyone else took it to make it their own, it would lose all meaning, like a rose tattoo.
The Jennie Project 