Yesterday for Father’s Day we met Kathy’s dad plus Polly, Mark and Lorelai at the Olive Garden for a Father’s Day outing. What a wonderful time we had- thanks mostly to Lorelai, who has this way of keeping us in stitches and who also knows how to charm our socks right off of our feet. She is such a delight to be with, and she always knows just what to say or do to make her Grandpa Gall feel not just like the most important guy in the room, but more like the most important guy in the whole world.
I know he especially felt that way when Lorelai presented him with this beautiful painting which she created especially for him. She did it all, save for the label up at the top – “Happy Father’s Day, Grandpa” – which I’m pretty sure Polly did. . . and I should also point out that the big figure in the middle of the picture (in brown) is her Grandpa Gall, while the little pink thing in the bottom left hand corner is her. I don’t know anything at all about art, but it fascinates me how a young child can imagine something in a picture he or she has created, and then gradually over time comes to see things so much more literally. But there is something so joyous about this picture, which seems to portray Lorelai and Grandpa Gall having fun with all kinds of mysterious- looking objects. (Is that orange thing to the left a giant cockroach? Is that cylindrical object at the right of the picture supposed to be a microphone with cord? No matter.) I love the mix of colors represented and the sense of joyous abandon with which she created this picture. But the most important thing of all is that she made this picture for Grandpa Gall because she loves him. And vice versa, to say the least. Someday (perhaps someday soon) she’ll start making pictures in which the thing she is painting or drawing starts to really look like the real thing. And that will be fun, but that will also be sad. . . because when all is said and done, I think I will always be most fond of her Abstract Period. And someday when she’s a famous painter with works hanging the Lourvre, I’ll still prefer these early efforts, if for no other reason than because they are just bursting with love and joy.