Way back in 1995, I was living, working and studying at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. During that year they opened a Monet exhibit that was extremely popular. My parents brought grandma down to see the show (I could get free tickets & discounts etc.). My mom told me tonight that she had bought this print, brought it home and put it up next to her bed. Seeing it now makes me weepy because my dad's oldest brother died as a little boy. Grandma told my mom that she loved this painting because it reminded her that she was going to be reunited with her little boy some day.