The Portrait
There is a portrait of me on the wall. My husband David took it with his cell phone when we were at a local restaurant a few years ago. I’ve got a bit of a tan, my eyes are bright and shining, I’m smiling with a hint of laughter on my face. I’m wearing a pink tunic that has sparkling trim around the neckline. It portrays a confident me, a happy me, a healthy me. It is a good picture, one I like because it reflects a happy time in my life. We were (and still are) very happily married, living in a beautiful lakeside home. Our three children enjoyed successful careers and relationships; four grandsons rounded out the family. I walked five miles every day, I was active in my church and community, had a circle of friends and lots of activities and hobbies that I enjoyed. These days, I find myself standing in front of that portrait, staring at the smiling woman. I speak to her, asking “Where did you go? I can’t seem to find you now.” This past June, I was d