My father passed away last week.
He was a Mainer through and through, a fact upon which most of his life hinged.
Sitting by his bedside during his final week, I listened as he fondly reminisced about many things that were so “him”, including: his love of being on the water (he marked periods of his life by sailboats, much the way many of us recount the years by the succession of dogs who have graced our families), the pride he had in crafting the delicate curve of a particularly challenging set of table legs for one of his many fine furniture projects, and memories of the island people whose salt-of-the-earth integrity had greatly influenced his own approach to life throughout his 98 years.
Early in the morning, before going down to be with him, I would sit on his apartment porch and take a few moments to quietly paint the nearby pine trees — tall and stately Eastern White Pines, which coincidentally are Maine’s state tree.
I realized as I worked to capture their distinctively irregular shapes that these sturdy conifers could be seen as an apt representation of the man who, along with our mother, had raised my brother and me: tall, upright, determined, resilient, unique, long-lived, and even, to make a terrible pun that he would have loved to hate, a bit sappy (classical music, especially Bach, could bring him to tears).
Much of making art is seeing the connections and metaphors that hover over our lives. Thanks to this unexpected sketching epiphany, I have a new way of seeing and remembering Dad — not only here in Vermont, but especially along his beloved coast of Maine.
Big hugs dear friend. I’m glad you were able to be with him.
There’s nothing better than a hug – thanks, John
So, so beautiful, Betsy. Thanks for this remembrance. Love to you all with this change in your lives.
Roz
So much appreciated Roz! Thank you.
O Betsy, he’s gone. That his final weeks were with you is wonderful. And now you have the pines.
I adore these sketches. Would you consider selling me the 2nd or 3rd one? I’d love to hang that on my gallery wall in my house. It may be too early to even think of that.
Bless you both on your new journeys.
This is so sweet, Dian. I’ll reach out to you privately.
I am so sorry to learn of your father’s death but glad you had what sounds like very meaningful final days with him. You’ve written a beautiful homage to him along with the simple but stunning pine tree paintings.. I’m sure they will have a very special place among your art and bring solace each time you look at them.
Thank you, Marilyn. It was a huge gift to have those days together.
Absolutely lovely, Besty! I have a similar metaphor for my father with skipping stones and shimmering bodies of water. Sweet honors that nature speaks to us through our practices. Magic.
Oh – I love that you have the skipping stones, Monica. Magic indeed!
Dear Betsy, My sympathies to you on loosing such a very special person… But also my joy at your being with him so meaningfully before he set sail on his last journey. Those big white pines will always remind you of him. Wonderful post….
Marya
There is nothing he would have liked more than the thought of setting sail on his final journey. Beautifully put, Marya!
This is so beautifully expressed, Betsy. I feel your loss, and love your sharing. The trees will make me think of you for a bit. Tho I didn’t know your dad he must have been a great spirit to have such a wonderful daughter! Sending hugs. Be gentle with yourself dear friend. xoxoxoLiz
This means a great deal, Liz. I know how deeply you can relate. Thank you for your caring.
Hi, Betsy. That is a beautiful tribute to your father.
You’ve been a huge support this past month Jamie, thank you.
It is wonderful that you could be with your dad add the end. Beautiful tribute to him and you never stop working. You’re an inspiration.
Judy
I was very lucky to have had that time with him. And honestly, everything drops away when I’m drawing/painting, so it’s not so much working as self-preservation.
Gently mourning to you and yours, Betsy.
Very much appreciated, Kate.
So sorry for your loss, Betsy. It sounds like you both surrendered with grace and love.
What a lovely way to frame it, Deanna. Thank you.
Dear Betsy,
Your text and your Pine sketches are both profound at this time. I’m glad you were able to give the gift of each other’s company during your dad’s transition to the next realm. Your identifying the spines and their meaning and painting them was a beautiful. As are the paintings.
Deep condolences on your great loss. Of course your dad isn’t lost at all. He’s in your heart right where you know you can find him
as ever, Joe
Thank you for this sweet note, Joe. You are exactly right – not lost at all.
Beautiful little paintings filled with memories and love. Thank you for these Betsy.
Thank YOU, Hasso