There is a State Farm commercial that causes me to pause every time I see it. In it, a man claims he will never get married, have kids or live in the suburbs, but you see him doing all the ‘nevers’ and being happy. Of course, State Farm is there to provide the insurance he needs to protect all those precious things. So what makes me look twice at this 30-second television spot? I could be that man, except when it comes to my list of ‘nevers,’ I’ve stuck to mine.

You see, I’m a chicken when it comes to life. Things scare me. Anything that has the potential to cause any sort of harm is avoided. This includes: getting a tattoo (hepatitis), riding a motorcycle (permanent injury), and flying in small airplanes (apparently I need a flight attendant to protect me). You get the idea: my list is long and comprehensive. But for some reason, I’ve started to rethink some of it. And that’s how I found myself, with my brother Dennis, at Steel and Ink Tattoo Studio in South County, holding out my finger so ‘Jake’ could tattoo a semicolon on it.

Yes, I will let you digest that for a minute. This middle-aged Clayton mom of two decided she should head down to Lemay Ferry and Highway 55 with her 64-year-old brother to get permanently inked. And no, I was not drunk; no, I did not lose a bet; and no, I don’t regret it. Actually, it was my brother who gave me the courage to cross a ‘never’ off my list.

You see Dennis is somewhat of a badass, a guy you would want on your side in a bar fight. That said, I don’t think he has been in a fight since high school, and I can assure you, I’ve never been in one. He’s the guy I called when I was younger and needed an ‘adult’ to help me. Dennis owns a successful roofing company, is the father of five and grandfather of 12. So he’s not exactly the type you’d think would be hanging out at tattoo parlors. But when his friend passed away recently, he decided to get a tattoo in his honor. I saw it shortly thereafter and a voice in my head said, “Do it.” I try to avoid listening to that voice, but not this time.

So, why a semicolon? The semicolon is my favorite punctuation mark. It causes you to pause, even though you know the sentence is not over. It also happens to be the symbol used to increase awareness for mental illness. If you’ve ever read one of my columns and thought, “She is a little nutty,” well you would be right. I have OCD. I know many people are embarrassed to admit mental health issues, but I’ve always thought: Would I be embarrassed if I was a diabetic? Anyhow, because my mind sometimes races, the semicolon is my reminder to pause and breathe.

That’s not the end of the story, though. Apparently there are some people whose skin rejects tattoos. Hello, it’s me! My tattoo is now just an outline of a semicolon, somewhat faded and gray. No longer bold. It is strategically placed on the inside of my middle finger, where I can see it and no one else can. I will likely make Dennis go with me to get it touched up, but for now I feel like a bad ass with my washed-out tattoo.

Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.