Saying Yes to Art

In the Spring of 1998, Christopher and I took our two daughters, ages five and seven, to Washington, D.C. Reeling from the recent loss of my father, father-in law, and sister-in-law within weeks of one another, still grieving my mother’s death five years earlier, and after undergoing surgery for what would be my first brush with cancer, I needed to get out of town. We all did. We visited the National Zoo, Library of Congress, and the National Mall with its sea of cherry blossoms against a backdrop of iconic white buildings. We shed tears at the Vietnam Memorial. All of it was memorable and important, but it was a chance visit to an art museum that left the greatest impression on me. One blue

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