Today would have been his 84th birthday.
10 years ago, my father died of an aggressive cancer, having lived just 21 days after his diagnosis. There are many gifts I received from him. I carry them. Primary among them was how in words and example he taught me to “pay attention”. An expression of this, was a parting gift that he gave to me, his Nikon. It became a source of comfort -To carry it, and to use it to chronicle my grief, by the images I took and used, for writing in my journal.
Coffee, camera, and a journal
For 21 days, I took a picture a day, and wrote about the feelings, memories, and thoughts evoked. The pictures that I took, mirrored my inner landscape. On some days, grief took the shape of a tangled fence, empty building, or changing tide. On other days, I could see the contour of a path forward.
I titled the collection, “My Mourning Journal”. It became a lifeline. It pulled me through, when I felt lost. Grief can be like that- It felt like an initiation into a club that I did not choose. On most days, it felt like a lonely journey through a liminal landscape, without a GPS.
The journey of grief does not fit into a tidy timeline. The stages were not ordered or neat, as some might say. But I found the documentation of images and words helped to tether me to something concrete.
It wasn’t about the productivity, but the process. To go outside, was stabilizing, and uplifting. Upon return home, I could escape time and place, when I wrote. It became a practice that opened up a way to stay connected to my father, and at the same time, relocate myself in a new and different place, in my life.
Like the fog, as I photographed, something began to lift.
As I shared my work, it became a vehicle for healing dialog with others. That’s the thing. It is not so lonely, once we share. In the sharing, we heal.
Within the struggle there have been hidden pearls.
And throughout the isolation of Covid 19, I think this practice is equally relevant. This has been a time of collective, communal loss. It has felt surreal, right? The creation of a photo journal time capsule, can offer a way for you to encapsulate thoughts, and feelings- the jagged edges as well as the blessings. We honor who and what was lost, as well as document discoveries. A journal can serve as a map, or an invitation to the way forward, into the next stage of our journey. I can see the glistening contours. Can you?
Contact me if you would like to start your own journaling practice, @ ingridcyros@comcast.net