Trails of Teeth and Feathers

On Mother’s Day last year, May 14th 2017, I lost my kids father to suicide. He struggled his whole life with depression and we struggled with him. He and I had recently separated.
It is still so close-too close to say much- except that this is work from my past year of learning to move through and live with grief.

In the first few months of this I let myself draw mostly for drawings sake; in sketchbooks and on scrap paper and with the kids; little plant studies and blind contour drawings of my children and pets. We hung a bird feeder outside the window at the kitchen table and I’ve been drawing who comes. I’ve tried to hang on to that looseness and openness to let my grief come through when it can (it doesn’t always) and it has been sometimes excruciating and indescribable and sometimes soft, tender- almost magical. Death, after all, is just the other side of birth- and is so much like one. The meals brought, the overwhelm of visitors, the gifts, flowers, ceremony. The surreal quality of everything. I have been noticing the little bright spots along the way, and seeing how grief, in its enormity and intensity is also the other side of love. 


April Coppini
May,2018
 
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