My grandmother passed away six years ago. Today would have been her 80th birthday.
At some point from 1959 to 1961, she painted this picture of my father sleeping in his crib with a stuffed rabbit toy. There was a few other paintings in the attic when we cleaned out the house. I knew they were up there, but Grandma didn't really talk much about them, other than to say that she liked to paint when she was younger, but she lost interest in it.
Happy birthday, Grandma.
