The Art of Loving DeNeece

Here's a photo of Marie and I at her graduation from the American School in Doha in 2000. And here's another photo of Marie at her graduation from Westminster College in 2004. This Friday, I'll take another photo because she is graduating from the University of Utah with her Master's in Counseling (with an 4.00, mind you). I'm so proud.

But wait, there's more. She was offered a full time position at Cornerstone Counseling Center, which is where she is currently interning. With two reasons to celebrate, I wanted to make something special for her. Something she could hang on the walls of her new office.

So here's a tribute to our mother (because, really, she is the reason Marie decided to pursue her chosen path). I thought it might be appropriate subject matter for the walls of a counseling center. You know, now she can show off her "street cred" to anyone who might be questioning whether or not she really knows crazy. Believe me, she knows.

I scanned in some photos of my mother from her 5th birthday party and incorporated them into this image. In case you're wondering what the significance of "The Art of Loving" is, allow me to explain.

My sister really likes to read non-fiction books about psychology, philosophy, and such. Why, you ask? I don't know. Sometimes she gives me books and sometimes I read them. Mostly though, I read the first thirty pages and then pick up something with an actual plot. I like getting these books from my sister because it reminds me how smart she is, and not just brain smart. Marie has gift and without her, our family would be even nuttier than it is right now- if you can even imagine that.

Anyways, last year she gave me a book called The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm. Its begins with a quote from Paracelsus:

"He who knows nothing, loves nothing. He who can do nothing, understands nothing. He who understands nothing is worthless. But he who understands also loves, notices, sees.... The more knowledge is inherent in a thing, the greater the love.... Anyone who imagines that all fruits ripen at the same time as the strawberries knows nothing about grapes."

If you know my mother, you know that she is neither a strawberry nor a grape, but perhaps a giant fruit salad, ripening all over the place. All five of her children have faced (and will always face) the task of learning the art of loving my mother (my father, of course, is the ultimate example for us). My sister, being the eldest and with her infinite knowledge, love and understanding, is well on her way.

So congratulations, Marie! I'm glad you've chosen to be a therapist, heaven knows we need one. If you decide to write a book about our mother one day, I promise to illustrate it. And I promise to read more than the first thirty pages, because after all, that book would be HILARIOUS.