The idea for this painting has been in my mind for several years, even before Ansel joined our family and I found myself the proud owner of a Radio Flyer tricycle I picked up from the garage sale across the street. The original idea came from a conversation I had with an End of Life Doula who spent some time with our family during the many months of my grandfather’s passing. Doulas, especially those who work with the threshold of death, have a special gift for drawing out and holding people’s stories. Mike Raegan, the man who developed such a deep connection with my grandfather, shared the following story with me some years later. It comes from another hospice patient named Danny.*
As I performed Comfort Touch (a gentle acupressure) on Danny’s hands and feet, we talked about many topics including his cancer. At one point, Danny said “I just remembered something I haven’t thought about in years.” I asked if he wanted to share it. He said, “Yes!” Then he looked up toward the ceiling and recounted the memory: “I remember being three- or four-years old riding my tricycle in my driveway in Iowa and seeing the sun coming up over the trees. And I remember thinking to myself ‘I used to be part of that light.’” He then looked at me and said, “I’ve never told anybody that before.” I said, “Wow, that’s powerful. Thank you for sharing that.” I then waited a few moments, as I could tell he was deep into the memory. When it seemed he was ready to talk again, I said “Can I ask you a question?” He said “Sure”. Then I asked, “Do you think you were really separated from that light or was it just your perception at the time?”. Danny paused, look back up toward the ceiling in contemplation then said, “I think it was just my perception at the time”.
This beautiful image immediately struck me, particularly as it resonates with my own visual metaphor of bits of light narrating our origins and the mystery of being. I, too, have a strong sense of a radiant energy whence we all come and to which we all return. I found it so deeply moving that the memory of this brought Danny such comfort at the end of his life, and forged a beautiful, universal connection between two virtual strangers. It is such a hopeful image.
I thought of painting it as Danny described it—at the beginning of life, rather than the end. As I now find myself witness to my own son’s one-ness with things, and his slow individuation, both beautiful and sorrowful, I wished to wrap all the joy and longing of both Danny’s story and the one I witness daily into a single image.
The frame for this painting is a special one. The carved markings are a combination of Ansel’s first scribble-drawings, made just before he could reach the pedals of this tricycle, and a few of my own childhood drawings. I asked the framer to remain true to the primitive quality of the drawings, but gild this beautiful frame in 22 karat gold to bring a fanciful bit of childhood back into the realm of fine art.
*This is an abridged version, but you can find the whole story and Mike’s telling of it on his website, peacefulpresence.org under “Stories from the Bedside: Remembering His Divine Connection.”