Powerful story about art and (the end of) life by John L'Heureux

Powerful and moving story in the current New Yorker - The Escape, by John L'Heureux - made even more so by the knowledge that it's probably his list published - and maybe last composed story; JL'H died a few weeks ago, after an unusual career: In one way an extremely fortunate and successful career as the head of the Stanford writing program - what could be a better academic gig for a writer than that? - but also I imagine much frustration as he had many books published but never seemed to be mentioned front-line among great and influential American writers. He had one book that his publisher - the excellent FSG if I remember - pushed back in the 1980s as a breakout novel, but it never quite broke out. That said, everything I've read by JL'H seems smart and thoughtful, but this one most of all - an astonishingly honest account of an older couple, both retired, as the man struggles with the onset and development of Parkinson's. In his retirement - he was a civil engineer - he takes up painting and finds that he has a talent, but at least initially the talent is mimetic only: He can't understand art that is anything but an attempt at imitating nature, that is, realism. He does nice landscapes and portraits based on photos, but not much more. And then he has an insight into the terror of his illness and begins some paintings that involve huge rock formations threatening to fall or collapse; his son - a poet and academic - recognizes an amazing talent in his father and compliments him, and the man continues to paint until, well, until the end of the story, which I won't give away. In essence, he has moved from are as imitation (of nature) to art as expression, and in doing so finds new life. How much of this story may be personal to JL'H I have no idea, though it does feel in some ways as if his writing mirrors the artistry of his character - that this story is both mimetic and expressive, a grappling with fear, with talent, and with the end of life.