Yesterday was the birthday (1882) of John Holland, my great-great-grandfather. Although we never met, we were briefly alive at the same time.
John’s daughter, Bessie, helped raise me when I lived with my grandparents. Her house was across the dirt road from theirs. I ran back and forth across that road all day, and I got to have her in my life into my twenties. She got to be a great-great grandmother for several years.
One of my favorite paintings my Grand(Daddy) did is of John, his grandfather. In January, when we discovered a cache of hidden works, Daddy’s preparatory drawing of the painting was among them. It was one of the pieces I was able to get in our family raffle.
The artist working at the local frame store helped me choose the absolute best frame, one that brought out both the silver and the brown in the original. The finished work is in a place of honor, directly across the room from me as I type this (the picture below is from before I hung it).
