This is the one I hinted at that involves scandal, death, betrayal, and injustice...
When I was painting this in late May of this year, though I had a pleasant mindset when I started, somehow I felt more deeply troubled in my heart than any of the other abstracts I've ever painted. I was so upset with the evil, the malice and apathy from "certain people" that before I knew it I was crying a river. Despite trying to hold myself together these thoughts kept weighing on my heart and the tears were making it very difficult to even see my painting. The things that unfolded amongst traumatic events, certain individuals' true colors being revealed, and the gravity of how evil their hearts had become was suddenly getting to me more than I thought it should, though they had wronged me before somehow it was too overwhelming even a few months after he died. I wondered for what felt like so long "Was it him who betrayed us? Did my father really stoop this low? Was it really him who did this?" Then certain things clicked in my mind that made me realize something else that seems to make more sense. My father, even though he was only in his fifties, qualified for knee replacements, which only last up to ten years, so doctors only recommend this to those they really believe have ten years or less to live (sorry for putting it bluntly but it is true and it is well known). This was about four months before his death which at this time I heard he was talking with his sister, Marlies, a little more, which I thought to be strange because he had said angrily multiple times after talking with her, "I hate Marlies! I hate her!" for many years. Others also confirmed that him and Marlies always clashed. Even a conversation I had with Dad in his last September, he shared of how he couldn't stand her. Whenever I'd hear him say hateful things I would try to brush it off because I know hearsay usually has no validity. Then I saw for myself the true colors of Marlies the night my father died. It's interesting that Marlies was the only one blaming and at that, she was blaming my Mom right after my Mom pleasantly said thank you to her for bringing him to the hospital. Marlies snapped "This is your fault! You did this to him!" in the likeness of a bratty child desperately trying to defend herself as if her wrongdoings were just exposed for all to see. Mom only said thank you, genuinely. If my father wasn't living apart from us then we would've taken him to the hospital ourselves, we already have so many times before through all the years he was living with us. With everything happening there was no reasonable justification for the way Marlies was wrongfully treating us. I was pondering all these things as I was trying to paint. Then I recalled some psychology how "the guilty are often the first to blame." If Marlies was really the supportive person that she appeared to be pretending to be then wouldn't she have stayed by her brother's side throughout all this? No, she didn't. It was my Mom, me and my brother who stayed with my father at his deathbed for hours on end, while Marlies rarely came in to see her dying brother and wouldn't stay for long, even though there was room for her, we weren't doing anything to keep her out, she could've come in freely as she pleased. So it appeared that Marlies was hiding something that she felt guilty for. Then the funeral and all that rigmarole came, and she still showed signs of guilt but no apology. Anyone could easily apologize for snapping and acting very badly towards someone or a few people while grieving -- A lot of people say sorry at funerals and there was a hundred people saying it that day. Even my Mom called Marlies a friend sometimes in the past. So I'm wondering was there something bigger than Marlies' lousy behavior that a simple apology couldn't mend? Then certain information came out in January, my Mom found out that we were NOT the beneficiaries of my father's life insurance. Even though I actually clearly remember the day that Dad was talking of it with Mom, and I walked in to witness this. It was shortly after we moved, he was just starting his new job, he brought home the paperwork, he was sitting at his usual spot at the peninsula in the kitchen, the day was cloudy and overcast, yet the natural light and warm weather outside brightened the house up through those large windows, it was before we got any curtains for our "new" home. Dad seemed a little uncomfortable because he was talking of "if he would die" yet he had a gladness about his demeanor, he said to my Mom out loud, "If I... (awkward hesitation)...pass...or die. Then you'll get $200, 000 to pay for the funeral expenses and to take care of you and the kids for a while." I remember the "$200, 000" VERY CLEARLY and EXACTLY and my Dad explained the why's about it too. He showed a sense of security and gladness in saying this, in knowing that his family would be taken care of after he's gone. Through the years my family prayed a lot for him, he needed help desperately, he battled with his demons but they overcame him too many times and too intensely for us to bear, he was like that of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It appeared that my father betrayed not just my Mom, but me and my brother too, the ones he clearly said he "wanted to spend more time with" just a couple months before he died. Then we found out that the beneficiary was Marlies. Shocking, right? We didn't have the money to pay for the funeral and to survive, we've already struggled enough for years. We've been on the verge of homelessness a few times even with strict calculated rationing. We don't buy gadgets or go on vacations every year, we macgyver things when they're broken, we work with what we have, and we work hard and still struggle trying to make ends meet. So we sent a letter, in June, to Marlies and to those whom were involved with planning the funeral way back, my family was hoping she would already have the conscience to do what was right with the money beforehand. Then, we found out that Marlies paid for the funeral costs. But where's the remaining $190,000? Marlies' behavior could suggest that she pre-meditated on "legally stealing" what rightfully was meant for my family or that she took advantage of her brother and disregarded the consequences and any sort of morality she might have previously had. Either way it's December now and just by Marlies holding onto that $190,000 for this long, almost a year, she has proven herself to be the kind of person that she really is, her choices have revealed her true colors. Any explanation or lies she might feed herself to justify the money being "hers" is a load of bull. She knows it. We know it. And God Knows it. Her and our relatives have been aware that we were never financially well off, and we have often been mocked by them because of it. Even if Marlies gave the rest of the money to charity, she knows that's not what that money was meant for. She should know by what she is doing she is not only doing the wrong thing but dishonoring her late brother, my late Dad's wishes (I'm talking of my Dad's wishes not Mr. Hyde's) and
I HIGHLY DOUBT THAT GOD IS GOING TO BE HAPPY WITH MARLIES' DECISION when Marlies meets her Maker. It's ironic isn't? Because Marlies has proven herself to be a gold digger, but instead of digging for gold in some old creep, she dug it from her dead brother. Before the letters sent out in June, was when I was painting this. All this seemed to make no sense to me. All the troubles and things weighing on my heart seemed unsolvable and left me feeling so alone, betrayed, and abandoned beyond comprehension. I had to walk away from my painting for a little while not just for my artistic eye to rejuvenate but for my heart to heal a little. In this "wait" time of much pondering, deep emotional dismay, and longing for God to tell me what's going to happen to us? My family? God, when are you going to give us the justice that we deserve? Why is this happening? Sometime then I suddenly remembered something I heard somewhere, that when the innocent are wrongly persecuted, it is to weigh and measure others. The actions of those whom are hurting the innocent and wrongly accused will be used in determining God's judgment upon those whom have harmed the innocent. Then I remembered one time when I was fourteen years old, I was always an oddball, I never fit in, but perhaps being the only super tall and super thin girl in the class had something to do with it. A girl whom I thought was my friend, whom treated me like I was nothing more than an accessory, said out loud for all the other girls to hear about my thinness being "disgusting" and then the other girls decided to join in on bashing my slenderness. I know I didn't deserve that and it didn't bother me that much, I've had much worse things said about me that were never true. Then some time later, this former friend of mine came back from what was supposed to be her vacation to a beautiful tropical destination. She talked of this water spout coming right over her hotel just when she came, and the terrible weather stayed with her for as long as she was on her so called "vacation." It wasn't until I told a another friend about this that I realized, "Maybe this was no coincidence? Is this justice?" I felt a bit delighted because somehow I instantly knew that it was God. God was giving me some justice. It made me feel pretty comforted (not out of bad things happening to people, but that there is some justice in the universe.) If God did this for me and has done other things like this for me and my family, I'd hate to see what God will have done to Marlies. When I went back to finish what would be called "Lost At Sea", I switched the orientation from portrait to landscape and I started to see something but also feel it too. I think these words were softly echoing in my mind like a gentle background music "lost at sea" and it felt so calming like the sound of the sea, and then it began to resound in my mind a bit clearer and I just knew it right there and then, this should be called Lost At Sea, then I painted a little more here and there to make it look more like an abstract seascape. And I felt it in my heart. That's what I've been feeling, lost at sea. When the world seems like a mucky mess of problems closing in on you like the deep and you're lost at sea going nowhere, but then you have to change the perspective and try to see things from God's perspective and you'll see that even though there's chaos everywhere and it seems like there's no place for you to step out to dry land, no solid ground, that God is there guiding you and waiting for you to make the right choice. And I don't mean just saying that you're going to make a choice. I mean actually doing it! Actions speak louder than words.
I am not a country music fan, but I heard this song from a movie and it really speaks to me. Every time I hear it I try to hold it together and shut off the waterworks. But the lyric has so much beautiful meaning, and it actually really fits with this painting and everything in this post.
"When you come back to me again" by Garth Brooks.
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