Melody Marotta

My son, Landen, only 17, left us on February 29th last year. Just a month earlier, my father, Landen’s sole father figure, passed away, compounding the weight on his tender heart. Landen carried so much physical and mental struggles that intertwined with our family’s ongoing challenges. His loss has left us a void that grows heavier each day. I never imagined etching his memory in ink, but this tattoo will hold the piece of my heart he took with him, forever binding us in love.

My son lives forever in my heart, his memory woven into every breath I take. I ache for him in every fleeting moment, a constant longing that never fades. His siblings and grandma carry the same love. Together, we hold him close in our thoughts, his spirit an unbreakable thread in the fabric of our lives. My tattoo would embody the eternal bond and unwavering love I hold for my son, forever etched, not only on my skin, but in my heart and memory.

With a heart heavy yet hopeful, I seek to honor my son’s memory by placing a gravestone at his resting place, a tribute we have been unable to afford. I also long to lay my father’s ashes to rest beside him, a union delayed by financial hardship. In my son’s name, I would contribute to teen suicide prevention, transforming our loss into a beacon of hope for others. Should any money remain, a small vacation for my other 2 kids and my mom. We have never had the means to go on one