Being here five years later is an experience.
I used to drive here and drop off my husband for radiation treatments. On one instance when I dropped off my husband...I was on a work call, my two boys were on their laptops doing on line school in the car, and the dog was sitting next to me. Plus, we were just coming out of the pandemic.
As I walked into this building on the Stanford campus, I felt so many things. I was there to get my annual mammogram. I knew I needed it, but I just wasn’t prepared for all the feels today.
I had the added layer of my dad.
Why couldn’t he have been here? Why couldn’t they have saved him?
For those who don’t know, my dad passed in March from complications of chemo associated with his AML in Southern California. I missed him terribly as I walked in.
And then I had a calm presence come over me, and I knew my dad and angels were with me. I wasn’t scared. I was just experiencing the moment.
I left and cried later in the day. It felt good to release it all.
As I drove to another appointment, a butterfly flew by my driver’s side window. Very close. I knew it was my dad. I felt calm again.
Creating art on a regular basis has brought me that same peace I feel when my dad and angels are nearby. I realized creating art is a non-negotiable in my life. It’s part of me. It’s what I need to live.
Art is so many things.
Who knew I’d be sitting here writing this five years later?
And who knows where I will be five years from now?
I don’t know, but I look forward to the adventure. Because this is really the sport of life, and we are all learning as we go.
