Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Of Sunsets, Sketches and Specialness

Can I tell you about my favorite art piece I will likely ever own? It's right here:



Can I tell you why it's my favorite? I'm going to. You can stop reading if you want, but I'm still typing. :-)

Several weeks ago, my friend Jeff came across one of Anne's sketchbooks. Y'all remember my friend Anne, right? The one I can't seem to stop talking about? You probably thought I was done, didn't you? NOT A CHANCE! ;-) But I digress. . .

Back to the sketchbook. Jeff found a sketchbook that Anne had been filling with various drawings from trips she had taken with her family and special memories she wanted to preserve. Sort of a hand-drawn photo album. Kind of amazing. (I can't draw. This is why I take a million pictures instead. But I wish I could draw.) Tucked away in that book was this:


Those are her little knees at the bottom covered in a blanket, and straight ahead is the inside of the big umbrella that was blocking her view. (Stay with me. It'll make sense in a minute.) 

This is a drawing that Anne created during my family's introductory trip to Stonington, Maine with none other than Jeff and Anne Miserocchi, who just knew we would love it there. (They were so absolutely right.) There is a story here, most of which wouldn't mean much to you, but suffice it to say this is a memory I will never ever forget. Some of it is captured in the note I attached to the back of the frame, which says this:

We sat in this spot and talked and talked and talked and laughed and laughed and laughed. It was one of my favorite days ever. You were still getting over lyme disease, and the antibiotics you were taking made you super sensitive to sunlight, so we had to shroud you in blankets and set up a massive umbrella to help you stay comfortable. You sketched (the inside of the umbrella since that is mostly what you saw), and I took a million pictures, which made you happy, because you assured me you would just relive the whole experience later through my photos. (You even told me that Mark had been coaching you on how to take better pictures and asked if you could send him some of mine to show him how much you had improved.) :-) 

When the sun started to go down, you were finally able to uncover and watch the sunset with me. Just gorgeous. And I wondered out loud what Heaven must be like if plain ol' earth could be this beautiful at times. But then we agreed that this probably looks like a crayon drawing compared to Heaven. 

I miss you so much, Anne. But somehow at the same time my heart is full to overflowing when I imagine you standing in the presence of our Savior, where the radiance of His glory glows with a brilliance you never saw on earth, even during the best sunset ever. I love you so very much, and I always will. Thank you for one of my sweetest and most favorite memories.

Here is a better shot of the picture in the frame above. This is quite possibly the most brilliant sunset I've ever witnessed in person, and I'm so happy to have shared it with my friend Anne.



2 comments:

Jeff Miserocchi said...

Amazing photo Becky! Sweet memories! You're a treasure and I know Anne agrees! <3, J.

Anonymous said...

I had similar thoughts on Easter morning as I witnessed the sunrise at Manasquan Inlet. Dad, experiencing the radiance of His glory for real. Tears, but joy.