The Painting

I wanted to share another incident where I felt my Father's presence in a way that provided me something to cherish forever.  The story about The Painting.

When my husband and I bought our first home, my Dad was thrilled for us (to say the least!)  It was old and outdated and needing a complete overhaul, but that didn't stop my Dad from seeing the potential.  I remember walking him through the 'construction zone' prior to move-in, and we stopped and posed for a picture in the mid-renovation kitchen; this picture currently hangs on my wall and always make me think about how happy he was for us to be fulfilling this dream.

When we moved into the house, our walls lacked much artwork.  One visit, during his illness, he brought down an enormous, gorgeous painting he must have had in his condo.  It was by a Florida artist named Tripp Harrison, and the scene depicted was a serene island cottage on the water.  My Dad told me he bought it because it reminded him of Bermuda (where he was briefly stationed in the Navy, and where my sister and I were born.)  He wanted us to have it to put in our first home.  It was the most amazing piece of art we had ever owned, and I loved having it displayed on our dining room wall.

A month after he passed, my husband and I were celebrating the holidays with my in-laws.  We decided to have dinner in historic St. Augustine, and while waiting for our table, we strolled the boutiques along the street.  We were walking past an open door and a painting of a boat on emerald waters caught my eye.  I took a step back to look at it closer; there was something familiar about the painting.  It turned out that we were at the entrance of the Tripp Harrison gallery.  We roamed through shop and admired the many pieces of art, even recognizing the same painting we had in our home.  I left that evening with a renewed spirit, knowing that my Dad would have wanted me to happen upon that gallery, certain that I would think fondly of him when laying eyes on the artwork.

Fast forward another couple of months, and my husband and I were again spending time with my in-laws; this time browsing a shopping mall that we don't usually frequent.  We were only window-shopping, but a large home decor store was having a big sale, so we decided to walk inside.  In the back corner of the shop, we again recognized these stunning paintings on display.  Earlier this day we were discussing our upcoming tax refund, and my husband wanted to take a little bit of that money and buy something impressive that we would not usually purchase.  Low and behold these paintings were on sale for half off.  The sales clerk noticed we were interested in the paintings and mentioned they were on clearance because the artist would soon only allow his pieces to be featured in his personal galleries, so they could no longer carry them.  What a wonderful sign from my Dad to lead us into this store, as if to say, "This is what I would have wanted you to have.  Something you would never normally buy, but here it is on sale, this collectible piece of art that will always remind you of me."  We purchased a piece that depicts a white-roofed bungalow set among palm trees and sea cliffs.  On the dock sits a tiny tackle box, ready for fishing.  A peaceful image.  A haven.  An idealistic retreat.  Something I imagine my Dad is enjoying right now.