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Dad and Mom at Hedges Restaurant for my mom's birthday
It was August 17, 1992, just three months after my Dad’s transition into non-physical. (AKA - death) and the day before my Mom’s birthday. The portrait I had painted of my Dad was framed and ready to present to my Mom at a luncheon I was hosting for her and her two best friends the following day. The day of her birthday.
I had been struggling with the mouth area for days, repainting it over and over again. And although it wasn’t up to my standard of perfection, I relinquished that idea so that I could gift it to my Mom on her birthday.
That evening an angel walked into my loft apartment, saw the portrait resting on the easel and asked, “Who is that?”
“It’s a portrait of Papa!” I exclaimed.
“That’s not Papa,” the angel replied.
And then the angel, my five year old nephew, Ryan, Deanna’s son, emphatically exclaimed, “Papa’s nose wasn’t that big!” (Not the mouth area after all!)
That was it!
That was the reason it wasn’t an exact likeness of my Dad.
Hallelujah!
It was a miraculous moment.
One of the memories of my Dad that came into my mind as I painted the portrait was of his nose poking me in the eye when he would kiss me!
It was that memory of him that caused the disproportionate nose size.
Little did I know when I had agreed to babysit for Ryan that day that he would deliver such an important message. He was the angel in that moment of time.
So after Deanna picked him up, I took the frame apart and decreased the size of my dad’s nose by a quarter of an inch.
On a drawing of a face that is a considerable measurement.
Finally, my painting was an exact replica of my Dad.
The next day at the luncheon, when I presented the painting, my Mom’s best friends commented on its beauty, but my Mom was speechless.
“Well Mom, what are you thinking?” I asked.
With her eyes still on the portrait, she quietly said, “I feel like I can reach in and touch him.”
I realized in that moment what a gift I had been given.
To have the ability to give that feeling to another human being can only come from one place. Source/God/Universe.
At the age of thirty-eight, I became aware that I had been verbally and energetically silenced my entire childhood. As a child, when I spoke my Truth (expressed myself), if it was opposite of most adults’ beliefs or conditioning, I would be punished, ignored and/or dismissed.
Presenting myself well in public was a habit ingrained in me from childhood, from the moment I began dressing myself. My Dad would lecture my four siblings and me about the importance of personal appearance.