by Michael Dumas

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In Her Father's Chair

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Shortly after the death of her father, I worked up the courage to ask Elizabeth if she would sit for me. I had known her since she was a child, and watched her grow up and eventually move away to start a life on her own. At the funeral, she read from her father's diary with such grace that I was struck by what a fine strong woman she had become. How had I not noticed this before? At the first drawing session on a late November afternoon, I was filled with this new found realization and a sharp sense of how life can impose itself on us in unexpected ways.

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