Picasso and the Art of Grieving

Picasso and the Art of Grieving

UNEXPECTED THINGS

Funny how quickly life can change. When you least expect it, you’re faced with a ‘suddenly’. One day you’re in the middle of the Caribbean, working on a cruise ship as one of the dedicated production crew, and the next you’re helicoptered back to Miami for the flight back to Alpine Junction to attend your dad’s funeral.

Jenna had her sketch book in her carry-on bag and spent the entire flight from Florida to Wyoming drawing memories of life with her father. Boating on the Snake River, fly-fishing at Feathered Hook, star gazing at the ranch. So many outdoor adventures with the added benefit of learning about native traditions and the need for conservation of the environment. Her pictorial therapy kept her from becoming anxious or worse, falling into an uncontrolled crying jag.

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing in and out. Thankfully the middle seat was unoccupied and the traveler on the aisle was ignoring her. The thought of having anyone start small talk was unbearable. Landing in Jackson Hole had it’s own memories, most of which included Daddy picking her up from the airport. Today it would be family friend Dean awaiting her. Dean, her older brother’s closest buddy, and her childhood nemesis. Guess it was the best her family could do, considering the circumstances.

“Jenna!” Dean’s familiar voice calling out to her from baggage claim. She waved and attempted a smile.

“Hey Dean – thank you for coming to get me. I hope it’s not too inconvenient.” He looked somewhat puzzled, possibly hurt, and she immediately changed her tone. Pulling him into a hug she tried to recover. “Really, I’m grateful, and happy to see you.”

“Let’s get you home.” Dean grabbed her bags, put his arm around her and led her to his car.

WHO SAYS YOU CAN’T GO HOME

Jenna woke up in her childhood bedroom. She tried to piece together what happened the night before, but everything was fuzzy. Her brother Joe and sister Josie huddling together with Mom. Dean dropping her off, promising to see her later.

The ranch house was quiet, and she slowly meandered down the staircase toward the great room and turned the corner into the kitchen. The same smells and decor she’d always known greeted her, but the atmosphere this morning was absolute stillness instead of the lively, happy kitchen it had always been. She peered out the French doors toward the edge of the property and was startled to see a parliament of owls zooming toward the adjacent forest. “Wow,” she thought. “That’s odd, night owls flying around in the morning light.”

Growing up on a ranch had its benefits, and Jenna wondered why she had been so anxious to leave after college. But musical theater was her passion, and outside of the horses enjoying her singing there wasn’t a lot of opportunity to shine in Alpine. Instead, playing flag football, horseback riding, swimming and skiing were favorites, (other than gathering eggs from the hen house), and possibly pumpkin chucking in the fall. So on a whim she’d signed up for an audition with a touring group doing carnivals and fairs locally, which led to meeting a crazy gal named Debra, and she found herself heading out to sea to perform for captive audiences loaded up on food and drink.

A quiet knock at the back door made her jump, but seeing it was Dean she calmly let him in. “Hey Dean, good morning. Coffee? As you can guess, Mom baked muffins and croissants already. She probably needed to keep her routine to stay sane too, eh?”

Dean just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Coffee is fine. I’m glad you’re up. Hey, I know the news that your Dad’s funeral and burial were already planned for today maybe blindsided you. Jenna, there’s nothing anyone can say to ease the loss, but I’m here if you need to talk.”

Jenna slowly looked up, staring into his eyes. “Thanks Dean. I’m just moment to moment here.”

Footsteps and muffled voices meant everyone was up and heading toward them. Suddenly the kitchen felt cozier with everyone moving about, eating breakfast and making small talk about the memorial service and burial which would be within the next six hours.

IN MEMORIUM

The memorial service was perfect, and included a favorite hymn, “Nearer my God to Thee.” Her mom Jane had every detail planned to honor her dad, and the church was packed with family, friends, and many people Jenna didn’t know. She was touched that some of his army buddies and former collegiate co-chairs attended as well, with eulogies defining a stellar life well lived.

The gravesite was located in the family cemetery adjacent to their ranch, and the ride from the church back home seemed to take forever. Jenna was amazed that the gravesite already included a headstone and braced herself when the coffin was lowered into his plot. Not that her Mom would fail to think of everything, but it just seemed so rushed. The headstone was a round top and was perfectly situated atop a cement base. Jenna felt cold and detached but couldn’t stop looking at the engravement.

JOHN CARLISLE

1954 - 2022

LOVING HUSBAND, FATHER, FRIEND and TEACHER

Scientist, Naturalist, Conservationist and Patriot

“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. - Albert Einstein”

Her thoughts were muddled, and her knees started to buckle. Without a beat, Dean was there and held her up, turning her back toward the road leading to the ranch for the reception, where she hoped that she didn’t have to socialize with too many strangers.

She felt like she was drifting across the floor, greeting people, accepting their condolences, and praying that she would be gracious and not flip out. Her brain kept repeating ‘MY DAD’S DEAD, LEAVE ME ALONE’, but apparently, she smiled and thanked everyone for coming. Dean noticed that she was fading, having never really let her out of his sight, and caught her eye. He nodded toward the back door and she met him there, sneaking out toward the stables. Peace and quiet was a moment away.

Dean surprisingly seemed to know what she needed, and she was amazed that she let him help her, considering all the childhood pranks he’s pulled on her. He opened the barn door and gestured for her to go in ahead of him. “Here you go, Jenna. The ranch has many hiding places as you well know, and the horses are great at keeping secrets. Scream if you need to, or cry if you want. I’ll never tell…”

Jenna swallowed hard and grabbed his hand. “Dean, I’m really grateful that you are the one who can see the real me, it’s just that I’m really emotionally confused and unfortunately I don’t have a clue what I need to do. I certainly haven’t accepted that my Dad is gone, that I’m back at the ranch in my bedroom with all these memories flooding in – it’s too much too soon.”

Dean sat down on a hay bale and pulled her next to him, and she let him comfort her in silence until the moon departed and the sun rose.

TRAVELING DOWN A ROAD CALLED GRIEF

Days passed, and Jenna was glad that she had taken a leave of absence from Carnival Cruises. Her friend Debra had called to let her know that her replacement was an annoying twit of a girl who thought she belonged on Broadway. “Really Jen, you can’t believe how precocious she is. She belts out every song and dances like a crazy cartoon character! You just take your time and come back to us when you’re ready. We’ll be in Saint Lucia end of next month if you want to go shopping.”

Jenna set her phone down, and looked out toward the woods, where her father was now buried just beyond the property line. It was dusk, and she felt the need to take a walk. Just as she stepped out onto the deck, she heard a loud scary hissing sound and noticed an owl flying over the cemetery. His large wingspan was majestic, and his heart shaped face was beautiful. But the hissing noise he made was eerie and unnerving.

Just as Jenna approached the steps leading to the cemetery, the owl landed atop her father’s gravestone, and turned his head to look at her. Startled, she abruptly stopped and stared back, then immediately ran toward him, waving her arms to shoo him away. He flapped his wings, circled above her, and instantly landed back on the gravestone. “You are quite the persistent owl, aren’t you!” His feathers reminded her of a Picasso painting she’d seen of a bird with unique feather patterns, so she decided to name him. “Hello Picasso, nice to meet you.” The owl didn’t move, and Jenna let him roost in peace.

“I wish I had my sketch book Picasso so I could draw your likeness. If you come back same time tomorrow, I’ll be here. My father is here with us, so you don’t have to be afraid. He’d love it that you came to perch here.” The owl remained statuesque while Jenna knelt down in front of the headstone.

“Dad, I can’t believe that I’ll never hear your voice again. That you’re not going to walk out of the barn with tack in your hand. That you’ll never again tell one of your lame jokes. I’m going to stick around the ranch for a little bit, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be visiting you a lot. This owl seems to be determined to stay here too, so we’ll see you later. Bye Picasso.”

Hours later the suppertime bell on the porch was ringing, and Jenna came sliding down the banister hoping she’d land on her feet. The table was beautifully decorated, and the meal was 5-star perfection. Jenna was impressed that her mom could make such an elaborate dinner considering all that had occurred over the past few days. “You are really a terrific cook, Mom. Have you been watching Food Network?”

Jane laughed. “Very funny. For the record, I have taken a few culinary classes, learned a few techniques, and it really helps me feel needed when I cook for my family.” Tears started welling up in her eyes, and she quietly left the table. Joe pulled Jenna aside and asked her to meet with him in their fathers den office.

“Jen, while you’re here I’d like to discuss the future of the ranch, and make sure we’re all on the same page to secure Mom’s future. We both know that Josie will be heading out to Notre Dame in the fall, and with investments, we should be able to pay her tuition and keep the ranch. I have other ideas that we can pursue…”

Jenna interrupted him. “Wait a sec, you actually want to make plans less than a week after Dad’s gone? Wow, Joe. And for the record, I’m staying here for now, so give it a rest, ok? My GOD, the ranch isn’t a ‘working’ ranch and never provided income. It was Dad’s dream to live out here and keep a few horses, chickens, and goats but the income came from his job at the college, his book sales, and speaking engagements. Thankfully he managed money well, so spare me your new ideas and let the dust settle.”

She marched off, barely clearing the doorway and smashed her shoulder on the side frame. “Good move Jenna,” Joe shouted. “Run away when the going gets tough, just like always!”

Jenna was trembling from the confrontation with Joe and found herself running out to the cemetery. She was shocked to see Picasso once again on her Dad’s headstone, staring at her. This time there was a mouse in his talon. “Dinnertime for you too, eh?” He turned his head away and took flight, heading toward the forest. “So you don’t want to talk? Me neither.” Jenna felt a cool breeze pass over her face and shut her eyes. “Dad, what should I do with Joe? It seems we still can’t get along even after all these years. He could really use a dose of your sense of humor right now. I can’t wrap my head around future talk yet, but if you want me to listen to him, I’ll need a sign.” Jenna stood looking up at the stars, waiting. When a shooting star blazed across the sky, she knew. Family first was Dad’s motto, so it was time for her to make it right with her brother.

RECONCILIATION

Jenna found that her body clock was still on East Coast time and was first to rise every morning. Of course this suited her just fine, and with coffee and laptop in hand, spent dawn in the kitchen searching the internet for information on Barn Owls. “Ancient cultures saw the owl as a wise ruler of the night who could see souls, often helping spirits move on to the next place. This has also given the owl some ominous associations with death, but it’s mostly just a symbol of transition. Some say, it’s a signal that change is near. Since nearly all myths and legends associated with owls say they’re a source of wisdom, one does have to wonder what sort of secrets he might be keeping.”

“So is that why Picasso is hanging out on Dad’s grave? Helping him transition? That’s a bit too mystical for my taste but something is definitely happening with that owl.”

Joe rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped when he saw her. “Hey Jenna – look, I don’t want to fight with you. It’s just that I want to explain what Dean and I have been thinking of, even before Dad passed.”

“Look Joe, I’m sorry. You’re my brother and I love you. My emotions are all over the place, and it’s true that I hide when I’m stressed out, so please, talk to me.”

He poured a large coffee and straddled a tall stool next to her. “OK, so here’s the potential plan. We’d like to turn the ranch into a real working ranch, a Bed and Breakfast DUDE ranch, a VACATION DESTINATION! Mom loves to cook and bake, so we can offer 3 meals a day, build a few guest cabins and remodel a few of the bedrooms on the west side of the ranch house. With Dean’s help we could get more horses, hire some ranch hands, and expand the stables. Our marketing strategy would be website, social media, and flyers sent to mailing lists. Fees would be based on size of parties, length of stay. Of course it would be seasonal and not open during winter months, but I’m guessing we could have full bookings 8 months out of the year for sure!”

“So how did Dean get involved in this exactly?”

“Well, he’s my best friend and loves our family for starters. There’s been a lot of change since you’ve been away Jenna! He’s had a successful veterinary practice here in Alpine for years, and wants to invest in our ranch plan, would take care of the horses’ health, and assist with running everything. He’s a good man, Jenna. Mom is onboard, although she’s hesitant because she knows that she’ll need help with cooking and housekeeping, and she struggles because she’s such a private person. Josie is willing to help during her summer breaks. Look, we don’t want to do this if you aren’t in agreement. This ranch is your home, and whether you are here or on the road, it’s only going to work if you want it too.”

Jenna spoke in a whisper. “Well that’s a ton to digest. Last question, did Dad know about this plan?”

“Yes, we presented this to him, and he was looking at how to help finance everything. He spoke to his investment banker, and that was two weeks ago. Obviously, it’s not time to push through and do anything right now – the only reason I brought it up to you is that I wasn’t sure how long you were going to be here and wanted to speak in person. I love you too, Jenna. Take your time, sister. We’ve all got a lot to process.”

TRANSITIONS

Jenna spent the next few days taking long walks, and meandering out to the cemetery just before twilight, folding chair and sketch book in hand. Picasso was always there, some days posing beautifully, other days circling above her looking for prey. Mice seemed to be his favorite, and she’d become accustomed to seeing dead vermin bones scattered about. One evening as she was returning to the ranch, she saw Dean heading toward the barn with Joe, and ran to catch up to them.

“Hey guys! Wait up!” As she approached them, she heard a familiar ghostly hissing sound coming from the rafters. Looking up, she gasped, and found that there were four baby barn owls peering down at her.

“Joe, Dean, look! New barn owl babies! It’s a sign!”

“A sign? Come on Jenna, get a grip!!” Joe looked at her with a quizzical expression and raised his eyebrows. Dean stood there with his arms crossed, a slight smile on his face.

“The owl that frequents the cemetery, I bet this is his family! He stays perched on Dad’s headstone, and I’ve read that they come to help a soul transition into the next life. This could be the next generation.”

Dean stepped toward her and took her hand. “Jenna, your father isn’t waiting to cross over. He’s in heaven, and the owl isn’t helping out here. Let's say the myth has some measure of truth - it’s probably that he’s sticking around until you can accept what’s happened and move on.”

“Well, that’s an interesting thought, but for the record, I have accepted that Dad’s gone, and that owl is still perching out there. AND, I’ve been wanting to tell you, I’ve decided to stay here and help build the B&B Dude Ranch with you guys. I have some money saved up, and I’ve got some ideas of my own to add activities for the guests. Of course, we’ll have to come up with a name for the ranch, something that will honor Dad’s memory. Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Silent hugs speak volumes in times like these, and Jenna found herself wrapped up in the arms of her strong brother, and his equally muscular best friend. Strange emotions were rising inside her, but she relaxed and let the hugs squeeze the pain from her soul. Turning around she looked out into night and saw Picasso in flight, leaving the cemetery and she quietly whispered ‘goodbye’…

THE FINAL WORD

Clichés can be irritating, but in Jenna’s mind, they could help define a moment. “Time marches on; Situations change and things do not remain the same.”

“So true, so true.” A year had passed since her Dad’s death, and now here she was, seated on the porch, petting a black lab, and preparing for the next round of guests. Jenna felt peace unlike anything she’d ever imagined. Hosting talent nights where guests could put on skits and sing karaoke. Teaching art classes and drawing portraits of all their visitors as going away gifts. Setting the menus and helping Mom create amazing food. All this filled her with purpose and joy.

The greatest happiness was the passion she’d found with a man named Dean, who still teased her, but completely stabilized her life in a cocoon of warmth, acceptance and love.

Picasso’s portrait was framed and hung on the wall in the foyer, and Jenna would regularly stop and thank him for being the means by which she found the life she was destined to lead. Barn owls still roost in the rafters of their barn, hissing and calling out to them, reminding them that the circle of life is a never-ending journey to be embraced, in the good times and the hard times.

Professor John Carlisle would have liked that.