Twelve Years

1677 The Breadwinner 8x10.jpg

Twelve years ago today, I married a really handsome guy named Adam. Our wedding day was perfect. After we left all the festivities and finally had a minute to ourselves, he quietly handed me a small gift, his wedding present to me. I opened it and inside were three tubes of paint— red, yellow and blue. Back then I was the very definition of a blocked artist. I had a degree in art from college, but after getting C’s and being critiqued by so many negative teachers, I didn’t feel like I had any talent, so I had given up on art. When Adam met me, I was working at an office job. He learned about my art background and wanted to see my work, but I dismissed him and said that wasn’t something I did anymore, I wasn’t any good. So imagine my surprise when sitting there on my wedding night, I opened all my suppressed dreams and fears, my history and hopes. I looked up with tears in my eyes to the eager face of my new groom. The real gift wasn’t even what was in the box, it was what was on his face. “I believe in you,” he said. “I believe in your artistic talent and we’ll work together to figure it all out.” A couple months later, for our first Christmas, he gave me a HUGE blank canvas. We lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment and had no place to put it except right up on the wall. Every day, I’d come home from the office and stare at that blank canvas and fill it up with all my ideas. I painted that thing hundreds of times in my head before any real paint touched it. Anyway, it’s been a long and wonderful road since then. Adam has pushed me and sacrificed for me and kept every promise he made to me on our wedding day. I love him so much for that. So every October 4th as I celebrate my marriage and the beginning of my own family circle (the most important things), I also save a small part to celebrate the rebirth of that scared artist who got a second chance to try. I still feel tingles when I remember him saying the words, “I believe in you” and the hope that they inspired.

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