a precious gift

I told you a couple weeks ago that I was expecting a painting of my daughter to arrive. I’ve been keeping it to myself for awhile, but now I’m ready to share it with you. The UPS man arrived while I was on the phone. I had a hard time ending the conversation, so I was forced to wait somewhat patiently before opening the box that was practically weightless.

I carefully cut the tape on the box and pulled out the portrait that was wrapped in another layer of cardboard which was surrounded by packaged air (now that’s a genius invention). Then I even-more-carefully cut the tape on the second box. I was getting closer to seeing the painting, but it was covered in brown paper. I lifted the paper off the portrait carefully and slowly, wondering if it were the back or the front. I saw white canvas–obviously the backside I was looking at–so I flipped it over and started to peel away the paper.

First I saw Mary’s signature in the corner. Then I saw the pink outfit that Abby was wearing. Then her purse, then her hands clutching the purse. Then I noticed the strings hanging down from her hat. I continued lifting the paper until I could see Abby’s face and the hat on her head. Seeing the portrait just made me smile. That’s all. I loved it instantly. It’s perfect. I enjoyed it for a few minutes before showing it to my sister who was visiting.

Her reaction was different than mine. I could tell she was unsure about it. She didn’t think it really looked like her. So I took the portrait to the computer and loaded up this post and we compared them side by side. My sister changed her mind. The painting really did look like the photo. Therefore, the painting looked like Abby, only more so and grander. (does that make sense?) My sister said, “Wow, she’s really talented.”

If you read my last post, you might remember that I said it took me over a year and a half to settle on a photo. This was the picture that I wanted from the beginning, but I hesitated because she was so much younger looking in this particular picture than when she died. In this picture, she is still baby, still toddler. In her last couple months, baby Abby blossomed into a little girl. I kinda wanted the portait to be of the little girl rather than the baby/toddler.

I’m glad that I stuck to my first instinct and choice.

Now, I had a hard time taking a picture of the painting, and I might try again, but here’s the best I could get so far. I tried several settings on my simple point and shoot camera and took it from different angles and used different lighting, but I still had glare. I managed to get the glare off Abby’s face and to the side. I am thankful for my digital camera that let me immediately see my failed picture attempts so I could try again.

A perfect painting. Thanks, Aunt Mary. I will treasure it forever.