In 1990 I met my life partner, Juanita, and she was, at the time, a nurse who cared for medically-ill ICU patients in their homes. Her best friend, Deb, was the mother of a young boy on dialysis, and so Deb also became my friend. She learned that I painted watercolors, and that I had a famous grandfather. Deb's son died a year later, and after a two-year struggle, Deb divorced and moved her other two sons back to California, where she had grown up. She found a small home to rent that was owned by the parents of her good friend from Stanford. Dr. Bisharat had immigrated from Jerusalem back in the late 1940's, and he studied Psychiatry in New York. But he loved to paint watercolors, and greatly admired my grandfather. Though a starving med-student, he was able to purchase a Burchfield watercolor by making monthly payments.
So Deb often visited Maurice and Mary Bisharat, and one day, as she walked about their home, she noticed the Burchfield painting on the wall. Dr. B proudly told her how he had acquired it, and mentioned how highly he regarded Burchfield's work. Do you know, Deb asked, that I am friends with his grand-daughter. Well! Maurice really wanted to meet me! A year later Juanita and I visited Deb in California, so of course we went to meet Maurice and his wife.
|A painting by Maurice Bisharat|