Then she laughed, a bright and cheerful sound that floated in the air. “Um, do you think I’m asking a bit much here?”
Arianna returned the laughter. “That was quite a wish list.”
They continued to share observations as the street led them to a narrow path through some trees. Suddenly they were on the same trail that Arianna had walked earlier in the week.
“Here we are,” she said, relieved. “It’s an easy stroll to the mas now. I was a bit nervous that I was taking you the wrong way. There are so many of these little streets, it can get confusing.”
Barbara laughed. “You know, I never worry about getting lost. Ceci and I refer to it as ‘having an adventure.’ Somehow it’s always possible to find your way, even if you have to ask and make endless U-turns.”
“That’s a fine attitude, Barbara. Tell me more about your travels together.”
“Well, we’ve gone on trips together since Ceci was a tyke. At first, she would simply spend occasional weekends with my husband and me. Then, from the time she was six, we began taking small excursions together, just the two of us. She loved her grampy, but he wasn’t the traveling type.”
“Barbara, you just caused me to remember the many happy hours our two grandchildren spent at our restaurant. We didn’t travel with them but took them on little journeys of imagination within the walls of Papa’s on the Danforth, our Greek restaurant.” She was thankful for those memories now and surprised that she was sharing them happily.
“There you go,” Barbara replied. “We’ve each built special memories with our grandchildren. That’s what’s important.”
“It sounds like they lived close by.”
“My daughter and her husband live in Vancouver, not far from us. Ceci and I would drive or take the train to a nearby town like Steveston or White Rock. When she was older we would take the ferry over to Vancouver Island and visit Victoria, Nanaimo, and places along the coast. We even went to Tofino once and hiked in the rain forest. There are beaches that go on forever, begging to be explored.
“Then, as Ceci got into high school, we went farther afield. I took her to Paris when she graduated. She tells me that all those childhood trips are the reason she chose to go into travel writing as a career.”
“Wow! That’s very cool!”
Barbara chuckled and grinned broadly before she continued. “Once Ceci married, she and her husband moved to Calgary. Even so, once a year we would still plan a getaway. Usually a long weekend, but once in a while she took me along on a weeklong cruise or an organized trip through her work. Her husband didn’t go on all of those trips with her after they had children. He’s such a great dad and partner!”
Arianna smiled at the proud expression on Barbara’s face. “That’s a wonderful story, Barbara. You’re giving me good ideas. Since we no longer have the restaurant, perhaps I can plan some little trips with our grandchildren.”
“Perhaps you can . . . and, trust me, you will love it and so will those little darlings.”
Arianna asked, “Did your husband go with you on any of those trips?”
“No, he didn’t. He loved Cecilia dearly but didn’t have the patience for our adventures.” She paused before adding, “Then, in his later years, he became an alcoholic.”
Arianna felt awkward. Searching for the right words, her eyes met Barbara’s with compassion. She said softly, “Oh, Barbara, I’m sorry . . . I . . . I don’t quite know what to say. That must have been difficult to live with.”
Nothing could have prepared Arianna for Barbara’s matter-of-fact response. “It had its moments. But he’s been dead just over a year now . . . and I have to tell you that it’s a relief, for all of us. To be honest, this trip is a celebration of that.”
Arianna’s face registered shock.
Barbara’s expression showed no sign of embarrassment or anger, although there was a hint of chagrin in her voice. “My dear, when you get to be my age, one of the most important lessons you learn is that each of us has a story. Though, up until ten years ago, my life was fairly normal, if not exactly what I wished for.”
“I’ve learned more than once that life can change dramatically,” Arianna said, “and I’m still coping with that. I’d like to hear your story.”
They had reached a small area where the trail had been cleared and a bench installed. “Just what we need!” Barbara exclaimed. “The French always seem to give thought to their elderly citizens. I’m going to assume that’s why this rest spot is here.”
She sat on the bench, patting the spot beside her. “Here. Join me. And I promise not to blather on. I just want you to understand why I said what I did. Some people do not.”
They sat in the quiet of a narrow field bordered by stately cypress trees on one side and a thick forest on the other. The backdrop of the ancient town was no longer visible. The sweet-smelling air was filled with the daily chorus from cicadas.
Barbara let out a long sigh and reached down to rub her calves. Arianna worried that going on this walk together might not have been a good idea. Her worry was quickly allayed.
“Walking is something that has been a constant in my life, and I credit it with keeping me going. Somehow I’ve managed to avoid arthritis and other afflictions, and I’m thankful for that every single day! I can deal with minor cramps. It’s good to have a chance to sit for a few minutes, though.”
Arianna agreed and told her that she walked every day now too. “It helps to sort things out in my mind. It’s not just exercise for the body but for the soul as well.”
Barbara patted Arianna’s hand. “Ceci told me about the difficult time you’ve had recently. She said you told her it was fine to share that information with me.”
“Yes. It was a surprising relief for me to spill my story to Marti and Lisa the other evening. It all just came tumbling out. Ceci got the short version when she met us for ice cream later.”
“It sounds like you’ve been carrying quite a load on your shoulders. I’m glad to hear you’re feeling relieved about releasing it. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”
Barbara explained how she had loved being a high school art teacher. “For all the negative comments we so frequently hear about teenagers, working with my students gave me hope for the future. I loved those kids . . . and I tried my best with the few bad apples. Kids are growing up in such a different world than my generation, and even yours.” She continued, her voice now wistful. “Then I retired when I was sixty-five and was excited about what would happen next with my life.”
“We were looking forward to that too,” Arianna whispered.
“I can imagine you were. It was fun to have time to do whatever I wanted, and that’s how I approached life. I figured my husband would have the same attitude. Not so, unfortunately! He retired three years later and immediately went into a deep depression that affected both of our lives dramatically.”
“I’ve known a few people who have struggled with that situation,” Arianna said. “Loss of identity and not knowing what the future holds . . . I’ve had a bit of that myself in the last two years.”
“I can imagine. It’s not unusual . . . and it’s a perfectly natural reaction to such an enormous change in your life. But I believe it’s vital to look beyond that and explore all the possibilities that are open to us. Don’t be retired. Be rewired! That’s my motto!”
Barbara paused, and Arianna saw an expression of frustration and sadness briefly flicker in her eyes.
“I tried to interest my husband in all sorts of projects, both for us to do together or for him to do on his own. He rejected them all. George decided he needed stiff shots of vodka to help him cope, and that grew into a problem he could not handle. Although, he did not see it that way.”
They sat without a word for a moment. Arianna was briefly thankful that she and Ben had never gone through anything like that.
Barbara continued, “To be honest, the last few years of our life together almost ruined the fifty that we had shar
ed before. George turned into someone I did not know. Someone I did not care to know. I felt like a prisoner, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave him after all those years. I did my best to keep the problems away from our daughter and her family, but Allison twigged pretty quickly. She would encourage me to go live with them or at least move out on my own. But at the same time, she felt badly for her dad. It was a messy situation.”
Arianna searched for the right words, but none came. She could only look at her friend and shake her head in sympathy.
Barbara let out a long sigh and looked off into the distance. “So I stayed. I had a busy life with girlfriends, as George increasingly refused to socialize. I had my once-a-year little adventure with Cecilia. I volunteered. I painted. I worked very hard at seeing the positives and spent as little time at home as I could manage. But almost every time I walked into our house, I walked into a well of negativity, criticism, and complaints.”
“Oh, Barbara, that’s awful. No one deserves that. It must have been hard to stay. I can’t imagine living with that,” Arianna sympathized.
“Honestly, I regret that I stayed. I missed out on a lot of dreams during the past ten years. And I experienced many painful and sad moments with George. Experiences I did not deserve—hurtful, mean words hurled at me for no reason or perceived slights. And I took it. All because I could not convince myself to let go of what used to be.”
“I get that,” Arianna said. “Leaving must be the most difficult of all decisions.”
Barbara’s eyes clouded over. “Yes, but I think it’s even worse to allow yourself to be robbed of the life you desire. When you get to be my age, those ten years can be crucial in still having the energy and ability to follow dreams. My loss began long before George passed away. I lost the partner I once loved. I lost the marriage I once loved. I mourned all of that for years before there was a true death to mourn.”
“What happened to George?”
“He developed health problems—mostly heart related—and, of course, he didn’t exercise at all. He spent a lot of time on his computer or reading or sleeping on the couch. Then he would begin his midafternoon cocktail hour and drink himself to sleep, often becoming very unpleasant in the process. Then last year he died of a massive heart attack. On the couch. With a vodka on the rocks at his fingertips.”
“What a shock that must have been,” Arianna said, her tone sorrowful.
“Yes. It was a shock. But do you know, I felt very little sadness. I felt more relief than anything. For him as much as for me. He had spent many years being a most unhappy man, and there had been nothing I could do to help him. Even though I was married, I really was living alone. At times I felt like a prisoner. And that’s not a nice way to live. Now I have my freedom back, and I’m very happy. Does that make me sound selfish?”
“Not at all. I just never thought of getting old in terms like that. Listening to you, I am sure you are not alone in that experience.”
Sad agreement registered on Barbara’s face. “The truth of the matter is that I know more older women than I care to admit who are living their senior years with this kind of unhappiness. We women have to remember to take care of ourselves at every age and not feel we always have to take care of everyone else. Let’s face it, many women get caught up in that at some point.”
Arianna nodded thoughtfully, recognizing herself in those words.
Barbara stood up, stretched, and sat back down, obviously not finished. “Let me just share this with you, Arianna. I feel I had a thorough lesson in dealing with grief. Perhaps just not in the way most people think of it. If nothing else, I believe it’s important to pass that lesson on to others.”
Arianna replied, “I’ve done a lot of reading about the different types of grief recently. I recognize I’ve been fighting grief for a while. It’s hard. Complicated. I haven’t sorted through it. I think I keep feeling it’s not time yet for me to move on with my life, because Ben is still alive. I grew up thinking grief is what comes after a person dies.”
“That’s the misconception,” Barbara said. “The most important thing I learned about grief is that none of us can even begin to comprehend it until it happens to us. And then, it hits every person differently. And—this is something I didn’t grasp until later—grief doesn’t just visit us when someone dies. I think you have probably been trying to cope while being in the clutches of grief all along.”
Tears welled up as Arianna nodded. She swallowed, blinked, and willed them away. She was tired of crying.
Slipping her arm through Arianna’s, Barbara gently held her hand. “Life can be so cruel at times. What has happened to Ben and to your family’s time together is tragic. But it didn’t erase the love and the life that you built and shared. The positive memories will last. It’s vital to hold that close to you. We often try to push grief away from us. Sometimes we need to accept it sooner than anticipated and work through it.”
Silence hung in the air. Both women contemplated the truth of that last thought.
Barbara continued, “I read somewhere that there’s a juxtaposition between grief and serenity, between heartache and relief. Really, we need to embrace grief and ride it out until we see through the sadness to the laughter and beauty in life again.”
“My kids even tell me I’m not being realistic at times,” Arianna confessed. “I know Ben will never be home again, and yet I can’t bring myself to give away his clothes. They don’t even fit him now. They tell me—in the kindest way—that I’m living in a bubble. And I know I am. I simply haven’t been able to move away from where my life is now.”
“Yes. That’s normal. But look, Arianna, you are here. In France. You’ve taken a step forward. A big step. Surrounded by this pastoral beauty and history and visuals that must make your heart sing—if you will let it. I hope you will.”
She squeezed Arianna’s hand lightly, and they both stood up. Arianna reached out to hug this wise woman who had taken the time to revisit her heartache and share what she had learned.
As they embraced, Arianna said, “I can’t begin to thank you for all you’ve shared. I’m sorry for your loss and the hurt you had to endure . . . and I’m so happy you are here on this course. I certainly lucked out with this group!”
Her face glowed as Barbara closed her eyes and breathed in the aromatic air. “I think several of us are feeling that. Life moves in mysterious ways and brings us opportunities when we least expect it.”
Bending down, Arianna grabbed a handful of the greens bordering the path. She rubbed them together and held them to her nose and then to Barbara. “Breathe this in! How good is that? We were taking in these scents the other day as we walked this trail.”
As the women drew closer to the mas, they watched something moving purposefully toward them on the path and then laughed as they recognized Maximus. “This cat has a special wise soul of his own, don’t you think?” Barbara asked.
Arianna smiled in agreement.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Arianna opened her shutters early Sunday morning to see the day had dawned in typical Provençal splendor.
She felt refreshed and primed for the adventure they had planned.
In meditation before her shower, her thoughts took her to a place she had not been for a long time.
In the stillness of her mind, she focused on letting go of the tension she knew had tethered her emotions. She pictured her heart opening and taking in warmth, love, and hope. She had lived with those feelings for most of her life. The familiarity felt good, although it was coupled with regret for its absence.
The wisdom of her new friends’ words about crisis and grief were magnified in her thoughts.
Looking out the window over the view that was becoming so pleasingly familiar, Arianna fixed her gaze on the horizon.
Yes, I was stripped of everything that I thought was important to me: our family unit, the routine of our life, our restaurant, our security, our dreams—my husband! Those I will never get back
. I’ve been grieving those parts of my life. But there are things I thought were gone that now I can see I will recover: love, laughter, different dreams, a new family dynamic, plans for the future . . . I needed to step away from where I was to catch a glimpse of this.
What she was learning from the rest of this group was an unanticipated bonus, added to the inspiring effect of living in the heart of this splendid countryside. The visuals constantly filled her heart. Walking the timeworn pathways and strolling the ancient winding streets had not ceased to thrill her. And to finally feel that all of this had stirred her creative desires again, to see the proof of that in her art and feel it in her hands, her heart, and her thoughts.
I know I only see how that applies to one day at a time at the moment. But that’s something I couldn’t do before I came here. My only focus was Ben. Now I am looking at my own desires each day, even though it’s not without twinges of guilt. It feels good to laugh so freely and to look forward to doing what I want to do. Somehow I still don’t see past my life with Ben. But I am learning that I will . . . and that’s an enormous step.
She sat in the window seat and composed an e-mail to her family. Until then, she had sent only brief messages and photos about her surroundings, the food, and the people she was with.
Faith, Tad, and Christine had all responded with humor, teasing her about taking so many pictures.
Now, she was able to begin to express what had just filled her thoughts, and she knew they would be pleased.
The plans for Sunday’s excursions divided them into two separate groups.
Arianna, Barbara, Cecilia, and Bertram were expected at Jacques de Villeneuve’s cabane at ten a.m. He had sent them clear directions to the ranch where he lived and worked as a gardian. Per Jacques’s instructions to Juliette, they were all wearing jeans or slacks. And they were eager to get going.
“In case anyone has forgotten in your obvious excitement,” Juliette added with a chuckle, “you are artists first on this trip and tourists second. Don’t forget your sketching materials, colors, and whatever else you need for recording.”
Drawing Lessons Page 17