Rhonda Slack, in Memorium

 Rhonda Lynn Slack

November 4, 1973 - January 11, 2025

Cousins. They are the best of all worlds. The people who share your memories and family ties but with just enough distance to avoid a lot of the drama of daily life. Today I lost one of the best. Younger by ten years which was enough to let me babysit her as a child, old enough to become a good friend as we grew up. She was a fighter, an artist, the strongest and most loving woman. I adored you since before you were born, Rhonda Slack

 I loved her so much from before she was born. I remember helping Norma pick out snoopy patterned cloth to make maternity tops out of when she was pregnant and picking up all the straight pins out of the shag carpeting when she dropped them while sewing them. I remember the first time I held her and living with her dad, her brother and her  in the summer to babysit her and Steven and a couple more cousins. 

From early childhood she loved horses and was a creative force. She painted a portrait of my seven parrots when she was in high school and became a master artist in her chosen medium of leather work. She crafted chaps and saddles and was an inspiration for her dedication to making each piece the best it could be. 

I will never forget her coming to the hospice room with her then husband, and her tiny son, in Christmas of 1996 to cheer my family and laugh over old memories and let my Dad smile at the baby boy even as he lay dying of esophageal cancer. She was calm and kind and willing to spend time just being there. She dropped her busy life many times to come visit when I made it back to Wyoming and just sit at a picnic table and share memories and hopes while our sons played or fished. She brought hugs and laughter to my mom’s memorial service and so much love.  And again she was 100% there. She always was there for the ones she loved.

She loved her son with an intensity from the moment he was born and raised him to be a great man and a good friend to her, and ultimately her rock and shelter as she fought against the bile duct cancer that took her life but never her love. 

I can’t say anything that will make this less trite but she really was a light in a world that needed her laughter and warmth and her strength. She was a blessing and I am so lucky to have had her in my life. 

So, I kept “swimming” or, one painting a day.

 Twelve months, one painting a day and not quite sure where I’m going after this. I started on copier paper with a big pallet from Walmart with a water filling brush that I was given as a Christmas gift, then I changed to cold press 9 x 12 inch paper in a pad from Walmart and bought some finer brushes at Ross. My big goal was just to stop avoiding ever starting because I knew the finished product wouldn’t look like the image in my mind,  plus I didn’t want to add another thing to my craft pile in the storage room I’ve been ignoring for years. So I kept it inexpensive and quick, mostly about an hour a day.

Over the year I gave away a few paintings, sold a set of 4 to a Mexican restaurant, and won four ribbons in the county fair. Looking back some of my favorites are still from the first few months and I don’t think I can actually judge my progress fairly. The first pictures I often traced of my iPad to get proportions right but I no longer need to do that. My weaknesses are more evident to me than my strengths but it has been good for my mental health anyway. The very first was the killer whales based of a boxed painting kit I saw advertised and the last was using photos from the Denver aquarium that were posted on the page of photos free for artists use. Also of course, Dory’s quote that keeps me from giving up some days.