For my entire life, anytime something exciting was about to happen involving my grandmother, she’d say “Hot Dog!” and clap her hands one time for added emphasis. So, when she fell ill, her daughters were all around her bed and told her that her grandsons were driving in for a visit. We could hear “Hot Dog!” through the cell phone and knew we were in store for a great visit. And it was a grand old time. Afterwards, my cousin Julian and I went to his studio and each painted hot dogs in talk bubbles to show her the following day. When she saw them, her face lit up and she said, “Fork!” We all looked at each other incredulously, but the nurse knew what she meant. The paintings inspired her to eat, which was a huge deal. We had a big laugh, which she shared with us. Then we brought her pizza and ice cream. Sadly, it was the last time I would see her alive.
Julian and I each hung our respective hot dog paintings in our offices, unbeknownst to any of our family. I suppose I did it to commemorate my grandmother’s legacy. But, after discovering we both chose to see it every day in our place of work, it became a tether. Silly though it may seem, it’s a happy reminder of what’s actually important: family, communication, sharing meals and each other’s excitement.
The story could’ve ended there, but to my amazement, the little hot dog painting has gone on to inspire all passersby in my office. So much so, in fact, that one coworker commissioned one, only with a slight addition: it had to be a Chicago dog. Well, today was the day that Jim received it, and after his reaction, I got to relive that moment with my grandmother all over again.
I just wanted to take a moment and thank those of you who’ve shown me what sorts of bridges my art can make with each of you. Let’s be sure we make time for what’s important, and may all your lives be full of many “Hot Dogs!”