Aaron had his art show opening on Thursday night.
If you don't follow along on Picnics In the Park, you might not have known about it.
With my limited postings these days, I don't think I mentioned it here.
I posted a bit about it on Picnics last week.
Despite my limited mentions of it, the show was the biggest thing going on over here for quite a while.
Every night after dinner, Aaron would brew a pot of espresso, do a little before bed wrestling and reading of stories, kiss the kids goodnight, and then I'd push him outside to his studio.
I took over bedtime, and many nights fell asleep cuddling with someone or another.
When I'd wake up sometimes a half hour, or several hours later, Aaron was always in the studio, painting away.
The most fun part of it all was that every morning there would be something new for me to see.
With each new painting he'd be more excited for the next one.
It was incredibly wonderful to see his passion for painting coming back to life.
But, in spite of his renewed passion, he'd wonder on occasion if his paintings were any good.
Were they "art'?
Would anyone take him seriously?
I tried to remind him that he couldn't paint anything other than what was in him.
After all, when you try to be someone other than yourself it's obvious.
Besides, I love who Aaron is, and I love that who he is comes out in his art.
I know some people just don't get a painting of a trailer, sunglasses, or a beach with a rocket ship sitting on it.
I know some people like Thomas Kinkade, or Wyland.
We all have different ideas of what makes up "real" art.
But trailers, sunglasses, and rocket ships are all Aaron.
And so he went with what he loved.
And the paintings kept coming.
As the show date grew closer, there were days when I knew he felt a little bit nervous.
Putting your art out for the world to see is a way of exposing yourself.
It is making yourself vulnerable.
I was confident that the night, and the show, would be really wonderful.
But I wasn't the one putting my art up on the walls.
So all I could do was offer encouragement and assurances that it would be wonderful.
Of course, it was wonderful.
So many friends and family showed up to support Aaron.
He was touched.
And very grateful.The whole night he had a grin on his face.
And I knew how happy he was to be there.
I knew he was happy that he had made the time to paint.
I knew he was happy with his paintings and that people were enjoying them.
That was the best part of the night for me-- to see the man I love so happy.
When Aaron is feeling especially happy he likes to give speeches.
Good thing he is an artist, otherwise he might have pursued a career in politics!
He gave a little speech that night to some of the people at the show.
It was sweet, and real, and from his heart.
I can think of other times he's made speeches, always when his heart is full and he just has to share what's in there.
I love that about him.
At the end of the night he was exhausted and exhilarated.
And I was so proud of him.
I don't say often enough how much I think of my husband.
I speak of the kids always, their creativity, their sweetness, and how much fun they are.
Much of that comes from their Daddy.
He infuses our home and our lives with all those things.
He works a lot.
All day, all week, all year.
Not a lot of vacation days.
His evenings and weekends are not spent pursuing his own "things".
(well, except for the Craig's List hunts for a vintage trailer....)
He doesn't sit on the couch watching football games and telling the kids to leave him alone.
Instead he wakes up early on Saturdays to take them to the skate park.
He is always working on a house project, detailing my car for me, or helping out with baseball practice.
In short, he lives his life to take care of all of us.
But he has this part of him that longs to make things.
Where, though, does one find the time to make things when one works full time, is a husband and a father of 4?
We all know, whether you have 1 kid, 5 kids or no kids, a full time job, or a part time job, life is busy.
It is hard to make time for the things you love to do.
But he did it.
He made the time.
It was a sacrifice, of course.
Our garage and yard can attest to that.
He followed the passion in his heart and made things.
He made cool things, just like he wanted to.
And yes, I am shamelessly, ridiculously, enormously proud of him for it.
You did it, Aaron.
It was wonderful.
And so are you.
Here's to lots more late nights, art shows, and happy speeches.
I love you.
Greta*Thanks to the people who took pictures of the show. I was so busy talking that I hardly took any. I'm glad there are some to document the night.
PS. When was the last time you bragged about your man?
Or woman, or mom, or dad, or best friend?
You know, someone besides your kid.
You should try it.
Call them up and tell them, or write a note, send them flowers, write a blog post, a Facebook post, or paint them a picture.
I often think of this post, and how easy it is to let time pass and never tell the people we love how much they mean to us.
Do it, friends, before it is too late.
Thanksgiving is the perfect time to tell the people in your life that they matter.
I hope you will.
I know they'll love hearing it.
I know they'll love hearing it.