Pablo's smiley face drawing (below) was hiding in plain sight, right in front of the book shelf in our living room (above).When Pablo passed away I started breaking a big rule in our house: I brought my bike and all the junk that goes with it into our living room. It was easier to prep in the morning. It was easier to dump myself into the front door after a ride in oppressive LA heat. Unconsciously, maybe I was avoiding the countless Pablo memories in the garage—his toys and his two bikes, the questions he'd ask me in there, the way he used to help me clean my bike. Who knows why I did it. But I broke the rule and the bike was in the house.
Many of you have seen the trail of cicli stuff in front of the book shelf when you've come over.
On Saturday morning, long before anyone else in the house was awake, I was prepping for my ride. I have a big black duffel bag that holds a bunch of my riding gear. I moved it a foot or two from where it was sitting on the floor. As I bent over to grab my shoes out of it, I saw something on the floor. Something red. A drawing. One of Pablo's trademark smiley faces.
I couldn't believe my eyes. The rarity of this find. The first thought in my mind was that this was Pablo's version of sanskrit—Pabskrit. The precious uneven lines of his young, developing hand. The beauty of it. Imagining how Pablo would have snuck over to the book shelf with a juicy red Sharpie when nobody was looking. Imagining the rush of excitement he must have had while he was doing it, fearing he'd be caught in the act.
Thankfully he was not found out. Thankfully we discovered this on Saturday July 18, three weeks after his passing. Thankfully Pablo's floor drawing is a wonderful, joyful, cute + hilarious gift for us to enjoy. Forever.
As I stood there, with the whole house still asleep, I could barely contain myself. I was certain no one had ever seen it. This is the kind of thing anyone around here—even a guest—would scream about at the top of their lungs. I was certain that nobody could possibly forget to mention that they'd discovered a Pablo drawing on the floor. I contemplated waking Jo Ann. I did not. She has a hard enough time sleeping. I took a picture of the drawing—the one you see above. And I told Jo Ann et al about it when I came home from my ride. After I put my bike in the garage.
Today, I say: Thank you, Pablo!