Tonight I will attend the opening of an exhibit that features new work of 8 women artists. As one of them, I am quite excited! Back in August I was told that we had a location and a date... February 3... (so I'd better start drawing). In November I was told that for certain PR reasons, the opening date would be pushed back to the 10th or 17th or even later. Hmm, I thought, and I wasn't surprised when ultimately I was told the opening would take place on the evening of February 24. (I never underestimate the power of unseen forces.)
On this day... the 30th anniversary of your birth... I am happy that I had you, happy that I knew you, and happy for all that you gave in this world. In truth, you are still giving. I know that I am not alone as one who has been influenced and encouraged by the strength, enthusiasm and honor that you showed in life. After you died, I heard many people talk about how you lived life so fully. It is true... you never wanted to waste a day!... not even as a little boy. I think of this often and try to make it a guide for my own days.
More than half a year before the "mishap" that took your life (and changed mine), I began to collect the drying, curled leaves from poinsettia plants that might have flourished under the care of a greener thumb. I knew I would be using them in my art, though at the time I didn’t know how. The leaves seemed transformed into visual metaphors for elements of other life forms. Today in this art exhibit, they are the basis of my subject matter... but to me they are far more than dried up leaves. They (and the metaphors I see in them)have been a way for me to deal with losing you.
The title of our show is "lifeSTILL". (Life not moving; life enduring... your call; I call on both.)
Pete, I love you and miss you... and thank you... today and always.
Growing up, months that seperate birthdays are always HUGE. Being the first to turn 16, or 18, or 21 is a big deal. I remember a project that we had to do in Mrs. Briscoe's 7th grade science class that dealt with our future plans. Although I can't remember what each of our lofty goals were, I remember that the age we were to think of was 30. It turned out that Pete was to be the first to turn 30 in the small class.
I will not reach that milestone until June. I never would have dreamed at that age of hope and naievity that Pete would not see thirty.
Happy Belated Birthday Pete.
You are still thought of and loved DAILY.
On a side note, I was given two poinsettias for Christmas and these things WILL NOT DIE. True, it has been a mild winter in the St. Louis area, but these two plants have been red and beautiful since December. I will look on them differently tonite. Life is in all things, after all.
You are an inspiration Pete.
Your friend always, Jeanette
