One Moment

I had a moment yesterday . . . one moment . . . a moment of a big sigh . . . followed by complete and total pride . . . followed by complete and total sadness . . . ending with a big smile.

Sounds more like a few moments, doesn't it?

I picked up my newest order of Annalee greeting cards from the printer, and that's when the moment hit me.

The order contained some of the previously designed "Friendship" and "Birthday" cards, but also included a new batch of "Thank You" cards, along with new bio sheets about me and my art.

I sat there looking at the freshly printed cards, and that's when it all hit me. A million and one emotions.

I'm so proud of these cards. So proud of this little Annalee character who is all me, and yet someone completely more confident and brave and stronger than I could ever be. I am so proud that I have actually DONE it. I have actually taken this idea for this confident woman, and turned her into greeting cards that make others smile. I am proud of myself.

Big sigh.

But oh, how I wish my Dad could be here to see it.

I hate that, you know? Death. The whole kit and kaboodle. My Dad never got to see her . . . Annalee. He never got to see that I am actually making ART - and that it is actually OUT THERE in the world. And that sucks. No other way to put it. It just sucks.

My Dad was a great fan of my art. He supported me whole-heartedly whenever I took over his laundry room as a young teen and adult, with large easels and the smell of oil paints and turpentine. He never judged my "black" period, and he was so proud of me that he even hung a large UNfinished (yes, it was unfinished) painting I had started of a train in his family room (his man cave) for YEARS. Every time I saw the painting, I told him to take it down - that I never finished it and that it looked awful. But he didn't. He left it there, for his eyes to see, whenever he wanted it.

Yes, my Dad. He was my biggest fan.

In the past 9 years, I've had many moments wishing my Dad could have seen my daughters (Katie and Ella). He passed before both of them were born, so of course I wish he could have lived long enough to see them. I just tell myself that he picked them out in heaven for me, so he already knows them. I guess that's what I need to think, to make the sadness go away.

But never before had I ever thought about him seeing my art.

That is . . . until yesterday.

Big sigh.

I'm proud of what I am doing right now.

And my Dad . . . I know he'd be proud of me, too.

Thanks for letting me share my moment.

Big hugs to you, my friends. Wishing you Peace.