This isn’t mechanical, but I think mechanics will understand.
My younger brother, Bill, passed away from lung cancer last year. He was left-handed, and known in our family for his distinctive style of printing.
He was also known for leaving notes. He and his 22-year-old daughter had a “thing” where they left each other nagging notes about petty things. He would leave her notes reminding her to pay her car insurance or get the oil changed in her car.
She would write a note in the dust on his furniture (he was divorced and lived happily by his own standards) demanding that he clean his house.
When he was in hospice and his time was short, his daughter, Taylor, showed up and announced she had just got a tattoo. We’re sort of a non-tattoo family, and that announcement earned her a disproving, disappointed glance from her father. She thrust her left wrist in front of his face.
“What do you think of it?” she asked.
She had taken one of his notes that was signed, “Love, Dad,” in his distinctive, left-handing printing and had the tattoo artist copy it onto the inside of her left wrist.
