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2001-08-03 - 6:49 a.m.

PAINTING THERAPY

A void has been filled. A missing piece has been found. We�ve finally found Mr. Philately�s true painting partner and it�s not me, it�s Day-Hay. I can stop trying. What a relief!

Mr. Philately worked as a painter in the summers during college. He was trained by a very precise painter and he himself is a precise man. I do not hire painters because he is not happy paying for an inferior job�and, according to him, most painting jobs are inferior. While he may not like the actual work, he prefers doing the job himself.

I�ve helped Mr. Philately paint over the years. He never says he�s not completely happy with the way I do the job but he watches so carefully that I know he�s not confident in me. Over the years, I�ve moved more and more toward primer and spackle. He�s not nearly as picky about primer and spackle.

So imagine my surprise when I walked into Kat�s room the other night and saw how Mr. Philately and Day-Hay were painting side by side. He was doing the detail work around the doors and she was working the roller on the larger surfaces. He was not giving directions. He was not even paying attention to what she was doing. He simply trusted her as they painted side by side.

There they were: the tall of it and the short of it doing the job together, he in his white painter overalls, t-shirt, and painter�s cap and she in her cotton shirt, old black jeans, and painter�s cap. They painted in companionable silence most of the time, all of their attention focused on the soon-to-be ivory walls. I heard not a single comment about dry brushing as so often happens when he and I paint together.

I couldn�t bear to break in. Neither of them had a clue about the time but when it became 10:30 p.m. I had to say something. (I�m not sure why I was still up then but I was.) The late hour was a shame because they were cleaning brushes and rollers so contentedly together.

Perhaps the next time they really get into it and have one of their very intense fights, I should point out that our room has not been painted since we moved in almost fourteen years ago. Forget family therapy. Bring on the painting therapy.

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