A few more pictures of things between events and after they left. It became apparent to me sometime later that the particular tension of this trip seemed to result from me trying to figure out how to best entertain my parents, while they tried to figure out how they could best help and support our general effort to live over here. The outcome being that I drove them a few places around town, and they took me to Costco to stock up, cleaned and organized the house, mowed the lawn, fixed fuse in the extension cord for the washer and dryer (which may have otherwise required the services or an electrician), made coffee, picked the kids up from school, rented a car for the duration of the stay (which we ended up keeping for an extra week to take to Amsterdam). So I guess we all compromised pretty well. The kids were easy to please. Having someone around to play a game of cards is pretty much all they want in life. And they were treated to that often.
I had a couple of other photos I was going to include here. One was of Dad outside with Olivia. I could see that Olivia was very busy discussing something with Grandpa. When dad came in he told Sophia that Olivia had taught him all soccer tricks, so he could now beat Sophia on the soccer field. Sophia, of course was not so sure, and Olivia admitted that there might be two or three soccer tricks that she didn't know. She wasn't sure if it was two or three.
I was reminded of the others I took later visiting the Van Gogh museum, seeing again his paintings of empty chairs. Van Gogh painted the chair that his friend Gaugin, I believe, had used while visiting him in that yellow house he also painted (can't remember now which city, Arles?). It had a few of his things in it. I was moved to take similar photos once after Olivia was born and my entire family left empty chairs and cards on a clean table after spending a week together entertaining the older kids and waiting for Olivia to come.
I took a few of those again after this visit. Of the cleared and organized surfaces with bowls of fresh fruit, and of the nicely folded mats and blankets in the conservatory where the kids had slept. My mom mentioned that while visiting our family in California this spring and summer caring for my uncle, she learned from my cousin Kenny to keep things neatly folded up between nights camped out in the livingroom. Something I'm sure he learned from living in small spaces in Japan, and from his mother whom my mother had lived with when they both first had kids 40 years ago and who also recently passed. A very small example of how the people who have passed continue to affect our daily lives.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I remember once being at the Musee D'Orsay in Paris and finally finding the Van Goghs they had there which was my prime purpose in going to the museum (though I enjoyed A LOT of everything else I saw there once I was in, especially the brightness and openness of the interior of the building itself.) Anyway, I believe there was the haystack painting, and a house painting, and one of Vincent's bedroom, and possibly one of his self portraits. I enjoyed all of them a great deal, I love the texture and sureness of his strokes. But the bedroom painting, for some reason, had me almost in tears. I've never been moved by a painting like that before or since.
For a long time I looked forward to seeing Starry Night. It's such an iconic image of art, and I so enjoyed the many renditions of it I'd seen. When I actually saw it in person, I was almost disappointed with how thin it seemed. I appreciate how it is different in that way and I still absolutely love the image, but I'm glad I've seen so many others of his paintings.
I'm so sorry to hear about the loss of your pictures and cameras and things, but especially the pictures. I'm very glad to read the descriptions, it is interesting to try to paint a picture with words, but it's the memory that a picture recalls that makes it so invaluable.
Thank you for the tellings that you're making on this blog.
Post a Comment