When motivation, inspiration and siblings mix it up.

It’s eleven weeks before Pub Day.
(That stands for “Publication Day”, but the abbreviation makes me think of a cozy corner tavern and a warm comforting drink.)
Frankly, I could use one—and it’s 9:00 a.m.!
Yesterday I returned from an experimental “sibling retreat.” My sister and two brothers and I held a weekend reunion. It was the first time since we were teenagers (back in the late ‘70s!) that it was just the four of us.
No spouses, no kids and no parents (who are both deceased).
We either drove or flew in to the central point of Louisville, Kentucky, to stay at an Airbnb together from Friday night to Sunday morning checkout at 11:00 a.m.
And it’s funny, for in hindsight, one of the guest blogs I wrote for my book last week inspired me to delve into the siblings of my protagonist, Jo van Gogh Bonger. I’d dipped back into the research on her family and what influences shaped her thinking as she grew up.
Unconsciously I was preparing for this past weekend’s walk down memory lane.
What Started It All
My book, Saving Vincent, A Novel of Jo van Gogh, is based on the true story of Vincent van Gogh’s sister-in-law and how she refused to allow Vincent’s artwork to fade into obscurity.
Most Van Gogh followers don’t think to wonder how Vincent became a world-renowned name. Fans assume that the fame of their heartthrob is a foregone conclusion.
Not so for Vincent. During his life his artwork was considered too radical and weird to be taken seriously. With Vincent dead, and her art-dealer husband deceased, Jo inherited all of Vincent’s basically worthless works. It would take her fifteen years as a single parent running a guesthouse to painstakingly prove Vincent’s naysayers wrong.
Something pulled at her to think differently.
Her story—and others like her who choose to take a stand against a powerful status quo—are fascinating. They beg the questions: What prepared Jo in childhood for the role she would take on as an adult? What was her family’s role? What incidents on her life’s journey proved to be testing grounds?
All adding up to: What enabled her to stay true to her purpose?
Invisible Influences in Childhood
In looking through my research, I searched for clues.
For example, Jo grew up in a family of amateur musicians. On Sundays the family would gather in their salon to play concerts together. When Jo was 20, her family began hosting large musical soirees. Although the Bonger family was middle class, there was no scrimping on music lessons and musical instruments. All the children played: Jo and her sisters, Lien and Mien, played the piano. Older brother Henri loved the cello; younger brother Wim took up the violin while a third sister, Betsy, sang.
That was one loud Sunday!
Throughout Jo’s childhood the family went on outings to the theatre and concerts. Music was so integral that within the three teaching degrees Jo earned a biographer claimed she had the equivalence of a college degree in music.
Music and art are similar in drawing emotions and meaning from the ethereal. In a letter to his brother Vincent would write that those looking at art must look “beyond the paint.”
Do you see the similarity? Jo had grown up in an environment that focused on listening and playing for meaning beyond the notes. She was not a technical art expert, but appreciating visual art uses a similar sensibility as interpreting music.
So, while the art elite stood aghast at Vincent’s willful disregard for conventional art technique (he did learn it, having attended—and then quitting—an art school in Antwerp), Jo saw beyond the paint to ask the decidedly unprofessional and outlandish question: “But how does this painting make the viewer feel?”
A musical childhood gave her unconventional preparation for her future role.
As far as other notes from childhood, Jo’s siblings don’t show up much in the book. Honestly, I had to draw a line on how many characters I could have. One of the core tenets of storytelling is that if characters are on the page, they must serve to drive the story forward.
As a result, my readers will get to know just one of Jo’s six siblings, her brother Andries “Dries” Bonger. Just eighteen months older, they were close when kids. Bless his heart, Dries is a bit of a bungler (and the only unmusical sibling). Jo leans on their deep connection in an important moment.
Meanwhile, as parents tend to be, Jo’s dad and mom are important childhood influences, yet, I chose not to give her parents any in-person scenes.
One of the markers of becoming an adult is jumping out of the nest.
My story is what happened after Jo took the leap.
Testing Grounds of Adulthood
Which brings me back to the Sibling Retreat this past weekend.
Former Air Force/commercial airline pilot. Grade school education maestro. Multi-industry entrepreneur. And I’m a former marketing executive.
The birth order march is in neat two-year stair steps. We’re all married with kids and in our active 60s now. With Mom’s passing a few years ago, we unexpectedly face-planted into being the Oldest Generation.
(Who let that happen?!)
And though we’ve stayed in touch through annual chaotic Thanksgiving gatherings and FaceTimes, those scattered conversations tend to skate on the surface of kids, jobs, homes. The real stuff—the testing times, the catalysts and thresholds of personal growth—too often lay hidden behind smiles and pleasantries.
As a result, and after forty-eight hours together (and with lots of reflection yet to come), here's what I’m thinking. Being on purpose is one’s life journey.
Not so much about what your occupation is but how your activities, your work, your play makes you feel. Do you feel alive? Do the hours soar by so that time evaporates? Does evidence and expression show up as creativity, beauty, kindness, receptivity, abundance, expansion. . .love.
Our small cadre of four sibs is working on it.
Warmly,

P.S. Let me know if you’re interested in doing a sibling retreat and I can give you a few pointers.
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