Painting Young George
Sketch good lines on the canvas of my life now.
by Mary Ellen Rothrock (2002)
My mother, a professional portrait painter, was diagnosed as having “probable Alzheimer’s disease” several years ago. After she was moved to a retirement home with nursing facilities, I decided to clear her attic. Among some stacked oil paintings, I discovered a canvas on which she’d begun work before confusion and memory loss overtook her.
The outline sketched on canvas was similar to a commissioned portrait of young George Washington she had completed years ago. That portrait of “Young George” had always intrigued me. Based on C. W. Peale’s painting, “George Washington of the Virginia Militia,” Mother’s rendition depicted our first president in his early 20’s as a courageous, if somewhat rash, young man.
In 1754, Washington fired on a detachment of thirty French solders killing ten men, including their commander, Coulon de Jumonville. The French cited the attack as a reason to retaliate. George Washington’s first military battle has been called the spark that ignited the French and Indian War.
Watching my mother compose the colorful painting made me think about the significance of beginnings — beginnings of careers, beginnings of wars, and even beginnings of countries. I told her how much I admired her work of art, and she promised to paint a copy as a gift for my husband and me.
This is it, I said to myself. The promised copy. It had been abandoned in progress, stored away and forgotten. The detailed sketch of “Young George” was a beginning of a painting to come. As I recalled how Mother’s art had ceased because of her failing memory, I couldn’t help but grieve. But then I had an idea.
One day, I led Mother to the cheerful art room of her retirement home. We sat together at an easel on which Mother’s preliminary sketch for “Young George” rested.
“Mom, I’d like you to finish this painting so I can hang it in my family room. Would you do that for me?” I asked.
In spite of her illness, she enthusiastically worked on the project. When confusion distracted her, I offered reminders: “You were working on his uniform,” or “You’re finishing his eyes.”
Week after week, Mother and I visited the art room. As she slowly brushed on the colors, lifelong artistic skills were reactivated. She became more alert and her face brightened. She became an artist again.
I doubt Mom could have executed such a detailed portrait had she not sketched the outline before her mind began to fail. Those lines drawn during her earlier, healthier days were crucial to helping her complete the painting.
Staff and residents at her retirement home marveled at the painting done by a woman who had no idea what state she lived in or what year it was. It’s not the best portrait she ever painted, but it remains an inspiration for my family.
God’s Word points to the promise inherent in something good begun well: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6 NIV). What I begin now in response to Christ’s leading may make a difference to myself and others later on. I pray I might sketch good lines on the canvas of my life now, while I am able, and that God may bring them to completion no matter what the future holds.
Postscript: Mary Ellen sketched many good lines. Her health issues interfered with writing, but I find some nearly completed work in her “attic.” With some edits these sketches take their place along side her published work. I hope all of these articles are enjoyed and shared. Mary Ellen would want that.
Paul