My Dad started painting with oils when I was a little girl. This was his very first – painted on a piece of slate with a frame made by hand. I think I was about 6 years old when he painted it. This oil of a single long stemmed rose was always in our house. It hung on the wall to the right of our front door. I saw it every day.
When my parents moved to northern Michigan, the painting went along and found a new home. And when they moved to Florida, it went right along with them.
When I visited my parents recently, I was curious when my Dad said that he had something for me. He disappeared into another room and came back with this painting. I was completely surprised and delighted as it means a great deal to me. I carefully packed it in my suitcase and hoped it would survive the luggage handlers. Thankfully, it arrived in one piece and now it lives in our cottage in upstate New York. We are thrilled to have it here.
Thank you, Daddy!