There’s not a month—let alone a day—that goes by that I don’t think about the strong women that came before us.
Women’s History Month just gives us an extra reason to shout about them from the proverbial rooftops.
My original plan for this month’s missive was to focus on the women artists who’ve paved the way for myself and other painters. (There are many.)
But as I was sitting in the waiting room of FF Thompson Hospital in Canandaigua this week waiting for a blood draw, I saw a portrait painting of the formidable Mary Clark Thompson, and she started speaking to me.
I closed my eyes and let my mind wander over to Sonnenberg Gardens, Mary’s summer home that she had constructed with her husband in 1885. She and I are set up on the sprawling porch of the Queen Anne-style mansion, smelling the flowers as we sip our tea and chat.
I’ve shared with her the news of today’s world: The suffering, poverty, wars, and crises we read and hear about every single day. I’ve given her a glimpse into my personal life, and what’s awaiting me there.
She’s telling me to be strong. To be courageous. To be kind. To not let fear of change dampen my spirit. She’s telling me I can do this.
Mary (after this tea, we’re on a first-name basis) knows a little something about being courageous.
From gardening to geology and medicine to Native American history and rights, Mary’s impact knew no bounds.
As her husband was founding and running banks with his brother and his father, Mary traveled the world exploring her interests, while pouring her time, effort, and money into her local community in Canandaigua, becoming known as Canandaigua’s “Magnificent Benefactress.”
Her husband passed in 1899, and Mary continued to forge a path all her own. Building FF Thompson Hospital in 1904 was just one of her incredible pursuits.
It’s that hospital that I visit often. It’s that hospital that I said goodbye to my father in just two years ago. It’s that hospital that is home to 20 of my paintings that the hospital commissioned from me to hang above the patients’ beds.
So I guess you could say Mary’s been a collector of my art for some time now. And the pull I’ve always had to Sonnenberg Gardens isn’t a surprise. It’s not just the flowers; it’s the feeling I get there.
It’s inspiration. It’s strength. It’s perseverance.
I have no doubt I’ll meet Mary some day.
She’s up there, somewhere, with all the other incredible women who’ve come before us. They’re collaborating and conspiring for our highest good. They’re reminding us that all the paths we veer down in this life are leading us to where we’re meant to be, and that’s nothing short of a miracle.
She’ll be sitting around a table, hosting a tea for passersby, and I’ll pull up a chair to reflect on how far we’ve come… and how far we’ve still to go.