Lorine's Lighthouse

“I’m gonna be somebody one day,” said young Darius as he looked out the skyscraper window of his dad’s office. Russell, affectionately chuckling under his breath at his son’s innocence and confidence, chimed in, “What do you mean? Who else would you want to be other than Darius?”

“You know what I mean, dad,” said the imaginative 7-year-old. “I want to tell people what to do just like you do!” Russell, trying desperately not to spit out the water he was drinking, swallowed and began to ask his son to expand on that statement. Darius turned to his dad, hands on his hips, and said, “You tell people what to do so they know what to do! I want to do that too.” Russell walked up behind Darius, putting his hands on his shoulders, and gazed out the window through misty eyes. Was this what Darius thought he did all day? Just order people around?

Russell was the founder of a very successful startup that allowed new artists to create and immediately cater to the wealthy art connoisseurs of the world. Essentially, his company was giving the term “starving artist” a run for its money. It had gained substantial public recognition and over the last two years had quintupled in revenue and profit by representing several artists whose work had gone viral.

While his company had grown substantially, the last few years had been very difficult for Russell and Darius. During the early years of his business, his wife Lorine was his inspiration. He felt as though her beautiful artwork deserved a platform to be displayed on, so he worked night and day to make sure she was known to the public. It’s what drove him. She was his first success story, the love of his life, and the mother to their kid. She was his everything.

About a year into her unbridled success and public recognition through Russell’s company, Lorine became extremely ill and passed suddenly. The doctors were unable to determine the cause of her illness, which left Russell feeling lost. Lorine’s love of art, empathy for people, and grace in the face of adversity kept him centered. Now he felt as though his true north was lost, as though he was adrift in an ocean, and the lighthouse leading him to shore had gone out.

And he was alone.

In the dark.

Lost with no direction.

So, he dove headfirst into work and rarely came up for air. He hired a full-time au-pair to take care of Darius while he was working. The long workdays turned into long worknights. On weekends he worked from home. Soon, work became his entire world. He would spend sporadic time with Darius, but often he was so enraptured by his work that he passed by precious time with Darius without a second thought.

After months of working without rest, Russell finally hit a wall and became bedridden due to exhaustion. The board of his now thriving company forcefully put him on leave until he saw a therapist, got some rest, and began to grieve the loss he had suffered.

One day about a week later, after having slept for a significant length of time, through many tears, Darius finally brought himself to face boxes of Lorine’s belongings that had been collecting dust in the attic of their beautiful home. Unfinished paintings, all of her art supplies, and the many journals she had filled with sketches and notes about how she perceived the world had been haunting him as they sat in the darkness of the attic that used to be her art studio. Since her passing, he hadn’t dared enter and had kept it locked tight so no one would disturb her space.

On one of her easels, Russell found a small black book. It was worn and well used. It was evident that she had spent a significant amount of time returning to the full notebook to read and re-read what was written within.

On the first page was written, “To Russell, my love and my biggest support. I will forever love you.” Russell, attempting to hold back tears, began to flip through the pages she had poured her soul into. Love letters, beautiful new perspectives on the world around her, passions, goals, ideas, sketches, and her dreams for their child from before he was born. All of which she loved was in that journal. It was her source of inspiration.

What Russell had failed to realize for nearly the last year as he avoided his grief and wallowed in his loneliness, was that he had a collection of her soul, the soul he missed so dearly, right at his fingertips. But even more importantly, he had neglected what she considered to be her most significant work of art: Darius.

On the very last page of the notebook, Russell found something that seemed out of place. A key taped to the inside with a note written to Darius and himself dated the last month before she passed. It read, “For my darling son and adoring husband: may you use this to be as generous with what you possess as you are with your heart.”

Russell glanced over to the locked paint cabinet in the corner, walked over, and tried the key in the lock. A perfect fit. He opened the cabinet, and inside of an empty paint can on the top shelf, he found a surprise with a note addressed to him. It read this:

“My Dearest Russell,

These twenty thousand dollars are the proceeds from my first sale that came from the company you built for me. You allowed me to share my heart with the world, and for that I will be eternally grateful. I know my time is short and that you have a long life ahead of you. The time after I am gone will not be easy for you, and for that, I am grieved.

I know you. I know your heart. I know you will be tempted to work until you forget what the light of day looks like. But as my final wish, I beg of you, create. It doesn’t have to be the way that I created, but whatever you do, include our son in the process.

If you’ve found this, it is safe to assume you’ve found my journal. I pray that it provides the same inspiration to you and Darius that it did me. Use this and the other supplies in this studio and create, care for people, and live generously. You have always been so generous with me. Let that creative light in you continue to care for those around you. Don’t let that go out because I am gone. Let it intensify.

Use this as seed money to create something beautiful. I love you.

With all the love and light in the world,

Your love.”

Russell sunk to the floor, tears streaming down his face as he gripped the note with both hands and held it close to his chest. He’d gotten lost, yet she’d led him back with her light once again.

As Russell gazed out the window with Darius, his son’s words resonated with him. This was his first day back after his forced respite, and he was still mulling over his wife’s letter, wondering what to do with it. It was true, in his grief, the people he once referred to as friends and coworkers became only the people he managed. He had neglected the community he had come to love so dearly. He was faced with a conundrum. How do I inspire my staff and my son?

Then it hit him.

Grabbing Darius, he put him on his shoulders and rushed through the offices with a giant smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye that no one had seen in months. All of the staff were startled, and most of them thought he had finally cracked from the strain of loss and work. He and Darius made their way downstairs to the massive warehouse at the building’s base. They had used to store old documents, unrepairable artwork, and spare furniture, to name a few things.

Russell flipped on the lights, tore the window coverings off, turned to Darius with a giant grin on his face, and said, “how do you feel about skipping school this week and doing a project with me?” Darius, who was wildly startled, excited, and confused but very much enjoyed the idea of skipping school, enthusiastically agreed.

After about a week later, the board was asked to come to the warehouse along with all of the staff. Russell and Darius, both covered in paint from head to toe, stood in front of the warehouse, excitedly waiting for everyone to gather around.

After everyone had settled, Russell began to speak.

“I miss my wife,” he said with love in his voice as he choked back tears. “She brought light and life into this world in a way that left me speechless, inspired, and full of joy, and as most of you have observed, I didn’t want to let her go. After a board-ordered respite, I finally re-entered her studio for the first time since her passing, and just as she inspired me in life, she is still inspiring me after her passing. What we have built inside is a place for others to create and show their light to inspire others. Lorine had secretly hidden the funds from her first art sale and left it to Darius and myself to create with. This is the result.”

With a press of a button, Russell opened the door to the warehouse to review a beautifully created space designed to inspire creativity for anyone and everyone who was ready to share their soul with the world. Scattered on the walls and the floors were quotes and copied sketches of Lorine’s inspirational notebooks. At the entry to the space, there were shelves and shelves of blank, black notebooks waiting to be filled with the musings, sketches, and letters of anyone who wanted to inspire. The remainder of the warehouse held all of Lorine’s art supplies, as well as fresh canvas and all sorts of artistic mediums waiting to be used.

After the unveiling, the board agreed to fund the space using 10% of the company’s profits to inspire and represent new artists, both young and old.

They called the space Lorine’s Lighthouse.

And it fulfilled a last wish.

Create.