It’s that time of the year. Stuff comes up; no matter how hard we might try to hold our breath and wait until the holidays are over. Don’t get me wrong; there are lots of beautiful moments during this time. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. My sister, also an artist, did a piece once that she calls; “The Hand We’re Dealt”. I’m reminded of this sentiment when I’d like to skip ahead of something I’d rather not deal with.
This is my first Christmas since Dad died. I thought I might actually get away with not feeling sad and distracted. No such luck. The sadness is sitting right here with me. Periodically I look over and acknowledge it in a friendly way. It’s soft, not harsh like it was right after he died. This sadness reminds me of my cat who waits patiently beside me, hoping for yet another snack!
Dad didn’t want me to be an artist but he ended being my greatest supporter. I guess it was in the cards.