Domestic Spaces and Objects of Memory

Absence is a presence; an entity that steps into the space left behind by the one who is gone. The indentation left in a pillow; the silence where there was once a comforting voice; the limp shirt hanging in a closet still holding the faint scent of them.

If you are here, it may be because you are coming to grips with the new, aching space that has opened up in your life, or you may know someone who is trying to face each day without the person they love. In any case, I am sorry. I am sorry that you must carry the weight of your loss, and I am sorry that you have joined the company of the bereaved.

I created this space as part of an art project—an exploration of my own grief journey. Perhaps to better understand the nature of the grief I still carry… perhaps to help others on the same journey understand that the grieving is necessary.

Our Western world does not do grief well. We have been robbed of our rituals… our public and communal displays of mourning… our right to hunker down and truly lament—the opportunities to give expression to the grief we can’t escape have been stripped away. We are told that we must move on, that we must pass neatly through stages of grief. People try to talk us out of our pain instead of taking our hand and walking through it with us. We are handed platitudes.

CS Lewis wrote; “The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, ‘What? You too? I thought I was the only one.’”

I want you to have those “What? You too?” moments. I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with the immensity of the pain you are feeling. I want you to feel that it is good and right to honour your grief, not bury it. I want you to know that you are not alone.