My mom and dad came to visit me in Utah not long before dad’s death. He loved all things ancient and, as difficult as it was for him to walk across the rocky desert, there was an ancient site we could drive to most of the way, so he made it out to one of my favorites. I’m very grateful for that.
Dad was an artist who didn’t get to pursue his art. On his deathbed I held his hand and told him how sorry I was about that. But I thanked him for giving art to me and I told him, from that day on, I would make art for the both of us. That’s when I took his name, George, as part of my own. Although I made him that sincere promise, how much better it would have been had he lived his creativity himself. His own particular drawings, his own paintings died with him, never to be birthed into this world. I want those of you who are struggling to get to your art to think about that. May we all make the art that is in us, and in only us, while we still walk upon this earth.
Many months later a show of mine was opening in Utah on a Saturday night. My mom was going to call Sunday morning to see how it went. She always used one of those calling cards, which appear on caller ID as, “caller unknown.” The Saturday morning of my show mom called. She was confused, thinking it was Sunday morning, which was a little odd by itself, but here’s the magical thing that helped make sense of it: The caller ID said “George Zakus.” That was my dad’s name. I asked mom if she had used her phone card and she had. I think it was dad “calling” to let me know he would be there with me at the opening that night.
It took two years to build my house in New Mexico and leave Utah. I called it the long goodbye. I know I needed all that time to let go. Utah still holds a special place in my heart and I miss her.
Has an annieversary of your father’s passing just occured? That always gets me thinking about my family and friends who have gone. Its nice to see photos of your folks…after all of those years there is still a connection.
It’s coming up–November 2nd–so I was thinking about him but going through the Utah photos really brought both mom and dad to mind.
jeane, this is beautiful in all the ways you are so beautiful – rich and heartfelt, bold and clear. thank you for taking me on your journey! always… no matter how much time passes between.
Thank you, Piper! I don’t know if you’ve read all the posts or not, but you are a part of the third, Leap of Faith. You were vitally important to me, especially in that year of transition. I still laugh when I think of you telling your grandmother you thought the universe was sending me an important message through hemorrhaging and she said, “Honey, couldn’t God have just given Jeane the flu?” and you said, “Jeane wouldn’t have heard the flu”. So very, very true! And, yes, no matter how much time and distance between us, we journey together. Tell Kent hi and kiss the little one for me.
In all this time I didnt know your Father was an artist, but nor had I asked deeply about your parents. It’s wonderful to see photos of them with you there in Utah:) Does my soul good to know you all shared the time and presence together there. My parents are still alive and at 91 and 95 they are fragile and the reality of them not being here forever will become very real one day. Your Father was a very determined man? Or did you get that from your Mother? It would seem he actually was doing very well to even be trecking out in the Utah heat not long before he passed:) Peace to you and all you love and may we all know we are one.
XOXO
Grace
No, I guess we haven’t talked much about our parents. It’s hard when they go but they leave behind a rich heritage. I’d say my determination comes from both mom and dad. It was April in the desert so not yet in the triple digits. We did have to take it very slowly, but we were all happy for the experience. Blessings to you, dear Grace. JGW
jeanne: i love reading what you wrote, ‘feeling” your dad and your mom through your heart words, and seeing the exciting photos of an amazing, sublime space. thank you for sharing the tenderness of this story. i needed that after just reading some distressing political, polarizing editorial. we need more love, more tenderness, more care. you are giving that to us in your art and words here. with big hug, penelope
Hi Penelope– What a truly wonderful compliment that, in my own small way, I can help you release some of the political toxins. I’m so glad. I’m happy you found me here. Blessings to you, Jeane
I didn’t know you or your father or your art, but I wanted to thank you for your snaps of Utah’s back of beyond. We moved away 3 years ago, and I miss it more than my wife will ever understand.
I’m glad you found the Utah photos on the blog. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I wrote the piece and went looking for photos. Lucky for me I’m in another place I love that suits me more. Can you and your wife take a vacation and go visit the places you miss most? It might help…