My first Father’s Day without a Dad. When I woke, I immediately thought of him. So I took a few minutes before setting out to start my day to remember this huge influence on my life. Trying hard to stay focused on the good memories, despite my selfish sadness at his recent passing, I immediately thought of his unwaivering support of my artwork. He was very proud of my talent, though he had very definite opinions on what he liked and didn’t! Gladly joining Jim and I for any and all art shows and receptions for both the food and the chance to meet new people. He would brag about prizes I had won to family. After my Mom’s passing ten years ago, we thought he might fall into a depression. But his remarkable ability to accept change allowed him to be open to all new experiences. On the Thursday before his death at 93, he matter-of-fact told me, “Life is perfect. Even when you think it isn’t.”
Below is the first watercolor painting I ever did and it was a gift for my Dad for Father’s Day when I was 9 or 10. I specifically remember I was terrified to put the paint on the paper as it looked so fresh and white. I didn’t know what I was doing with the watercolor. Someone had given me the paint as a gift and there were no instructions. What would happen if it didn’t come out good, what if I ruined the paper, what if Dad didn’t like it? He, of course, exhibited great enthusiasm over my “gift”. Perhaps had he not, I would have never done it again. Thanks Dad, and thanks Mom for saving this scrap of our history together. The painting was put in my father’s coffin to join with the ashes of this remarkable man.