This photograph which I took a few days ago brings me to Claude Monet and from him to Dad.
See, it was during Summertime when I was 7 or 8 that Dad first introduced me to The National Art Gallery in Dublin. We used to swap houses with his sister, who lived in Dublin, and that was when we tended to visit places that Mother and Father loved.
It was Dad who was into art galleries and I adored going to them with him. Whenever he came to Dublin in the years that I lived there we would head for The National Gallery, view the art and then dine at leisure and chat contentedly.
He loved that he had passed on his enjoyment of art to me and could more than understand how I savoured going on guided Gallery tours on Sunday afternoons and taking a year long evening course in art history.
Every New Year’s Day for years and years, I gave him an Impressionist calendar which had its special place in his bolt hole.
How can one ever thank a parent enough for sowing the seeds of love for such precious things as creative arts and sport?
I guess one way is to try and pass on the love to future generations in a non-pushy way and hope that it will take root.