Epilogue
Glory
Two and a half years later
The bell over the doorjingled, causing me to stop mid stroke and hold still.
“Hello?” I heard the delicate voice of an older woman echo off the old brick walls.
Placing down my brush, I grabbed a hand towel and wiped my fingers. “Hello, how can I help you?” Stepping out from the back room, I gave her a friendly smile.
“Well, I've actually passed by here a dozen times, and every time this painting right here,” she said, pointing her finger at the back wall. “It always catches my attention. I was wondering how much it costs?”
“Oh, I'm sorry, that one isn't for sale. Unfortunately, it's part of my private collection. I probably shouldn't have it up there like that, but I love it too much to let it just sit unseen and collect dust. But everything on this wall. . .” Waving my hand around the wall to my right, I took a long step to the side. “It's all for sale.”
“Hm, alright.” Her tone sounded disappointed as she took a few steps closer to look at the paintings hanging in place.
“I also do private orders, I'd be more than happy to paint you something similar to this one. It just won't be exactly the same, I can't do that.”
The one she wanted was just for me. It was a woman balancing on the edge of a cliff, her face angled up at the sun, arms spread out as if she was about to jump. Everything around her screamed beauty.
A bright sun created yellow and red swirls across a purple sky. There were mountains in the distance and the glistening waves of an ocean just beyond those mountains.
But you could see the pain in her stance, in the way her head was angled and her body was rigid. For all the serenity around her, the woman felt sorrow and anguish.
It was up to you, the viewer, whether you wanted to think she was about to jump or not.
In my head she wasn't jumping at all. I saw her as a woman accepting life. She was giving herself permission to love again, to laugh and smile and enjoy the things that mattered.
This woman was opening her arms to let it all in. She was embracing whatever gifts were sent her way. And she was willing to stand on the verge of certain death to accept those gifts.
Because that was life.
You can't live until you've lost. You can't appreciate until you have nothing.
“Really?”
“Absolutely, but let me ask you a question. What do you see in that picture?”
“What do you mean?” Angling her head, she glanced between the painting and me. Folding her arms across her chest, she stepped in and tipped her head back, taking on a full view of the image.
“Do you see her staying right where she is or do you see her jumping?”
“Does it matter what I see?”
Walking up beside her, I cupped my hips. “It does.”
“To be honest, I don't see either.” Swirling her finger in the air around the shape of the woman, she said. “I see her flying. She doesn't stay at the edge and she doesn't jump off and fall, she flies.”
Squinting my eyes, I smiled. “That's perfect. I know what to paint you now.”
“Seriously? Just from that?”
The bell jingled again, causing us both to twist our heads over our shoulders. Instantly a smile split across my face.
“And what are you two doing here?” I asked, squatting down and holding out my arms.
Liam let go of our son's hand, allowing him to waddle awkwardly in my direction, his steps still new and uneven.
