*Family
Aspen Canyon
pastel by Michael McKee
Family
Day 30 — March 10
On this penultimate day of my journey of writing and remembering, I chose the word, Family, and matched it with this Aspen Canyon art by Michael McKee.
Because the art is unexpectedly beautiful, a symphony of color that cannot be witnessed in nature but seen only through the artist’s eye. Purple and teal and orange and rust and red and blue and pink and green and brown and ochre and yellow and gold. Together.
About his art, Michael wrote, "I utilize dynamic, joyful color with bold strokes and shapes to define my high energy work. I approach everything I do in art as a dance of design and color, created to bring joy and happiness into peoples lives."
From my birth family—growing up in Longmont, Colorado—to my family with Elizabeth, and Annika, and Preston, I have experienced that deep joy and exuberant color that Michael describes. Yet, to be honest, alongside a lot of hard work, difficult challenges, and now inexpressible sorrow.
Before her heart transplant, Elizabeth struggled mightily with the decision to go ahead with it. But her life was increasingly difficult, and she longed for the opportunity to live life again with the fullness of the dance and design and color that she remembered. We spoke often about “if something should happen,” because the success of a heart transplant is not a sure thing.
When we got the late-night call that a heart was available, we assured one another of this: that she was going forward with courage and trust—because she was opting in to the promise of life in its fullness. Opting in to hope for the future of our family together. Opting in to love.
And she would want nothing more for us than to do the same, even with broken hearts.
Celebrating our 25th Marriage Anniversary: Back: Zac Stevens, Annika Mueller, Kent Mueller, Elizabeth Izant, Preston Mueller Front: Gerald and Delores Mueller (Kent’s parents)
Day 30: the art of love and loss
view all posts at kentmueller.com
February 10, 2020, was the day my wife, Elizabeth Izant, entered the hospital. She and I were on a hopeful journey following her heart transplant five months prior. On March 1, she entered hospice and died March 11. This series is not about her medical journey. This is about sharing stories and reflections about our life together. In our 29 years of marriage, we collected a piece of art or two each year, often in celebration of our marriage anniversary. Each day from February 10 to March 11, I will be sharing an image of that art. And a story.