My Story - Why I Paint

My Story - Why I Paint

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On May 7th, 2017, I lost a grandchild, Curt (pictured), in a car accident. He and his mom, my daughter, (also pictured), who thankfully survived, were hit head-on, by a drunk driver.

Curt was 15. The word for him is lovely, just a lovely young man.

He had 50 best friends. Everyone knew and loved him at school. He had that dry wit that kept everyone laughing; a class was always going to be fun if Curt was in the same classroom.

He kept his teammates inspired and laughing during every game.

I have 6 other grand children, and I love them all the same, but there was just something special about Curt. He never hurt anyone's feelings and he had a special draw to the downtrodden, lonely, or picked-on students. He talked to them, and encouraged them daily.

He was just the best!

The first 4 years after his death were hell! I broke down and cried, uncontrollably, many times a day. You can only imagine. The 5th year without Curt, I cried in the mornings, as I drank my coffee.

 When the 6th year rolled around, I told myself that I had to stop crying. I knew Curt would say, "Enough already. You know that I am fine."

I could get through work. It was all the other times that were the hardest, especially since I lived alone. I had to find a way to fill the time.

I have always wanted to paint, but never had the time - raising kids, grandkids, family dinners twice a month, birthday and holiday celebrations, etc. 

Now, since Curt's passing, we don't celebrate anymore. My children and grandchildren meet twice a year, and we all live within 50 miles of each other. We are still trying. We try.

Everything has definitely changed. So, now I have time to pursue painting. Although my heart is forever broken, I have stopped crying.

I must say that I HAVE to paint! I get lost in it. It's my God-given therapy.