I had a box of trophies — statues, medals, pins — from my Cardinal days. I don’t think they made it to France. But I’m still surrounded by Cardinals. The ones I paint. The ones that visit my heart from heavenly places. Red and black can still lift me, in so many ways.

She’s almost always in red and black when we see her, surrounded by shouts of “Go, little Quinnie!” — as if the words could somehow jump into her stride and carry her along. Dominique picked up on it right away. Returning back to France, on the days when I’m scurrying about, running to get things done, he’ll say, “Go, little Quinnie!” And I can tell you that it works — they jump straight into my heart’s stride. To be connected still, even from so far away, it will ever lift me.

And that’s what I want for her — not the trophies or ribbons, they will surely get lost along the way — but to be ever lifted!  This is something!  Painting her, I realized in this moment, both of her feet were off the ground. These are the moments, I suppose, that we all want to capture. Isn’t that just like a Cardinal? To be in flight! 

Maybe one day she’ll make it to France. I just want her to know that a little part of her is already here.