We Are the Story

Bringing attention to grief in this lonely silence

The concept for this painting was born in 2022, about a year after our daughter Amanda died in an automobile accident in the state of Florida in the United States in April 2021. At the time, my husband and I were in the throes of grief, and I was contemplating the social vacuum that formed around us in that past year or so. After the early months, we noticed something that many others have noticed: the initial network of support vanishes as most people return to their own lives.

Our daughter’s story suddenly ended on that bright sunny spring morning. But our lives continue. Somehow. As I tapped into support groups as part of my grief journey, I noticed that other parents were going through this as well. Quite literally everywhere. I also realized that one cannot simply look at a stranger and detect their inner grief and their specific loss. This means we are surely surrounded by people grieving as they go about their day... and they would not notice us, mere steps away, who could commiserate with them if we only knew about each other. And so it goes: we all go through our days alone with our grief, the lid on securely, saving the tears and darkness for quiet moments alone in our safe enclave. Perhaps this is in the car on the drive home, in the living room under the reading light, or in bed with the shadows dancing on the wall. But what are their stories? What have they learned about coping with this? Is it as perpetual as it seems? How can I find them? How can they find me?

So “We are the Story” is to give voice to grieving parents, while our life story is still in progress. Among the messages would be to tell friends to pick up the phone and reach out to us. Spend some time with us. Ask us if it is OK to say our child's name or talk about how they remember our child. Everyone is different, but many of us would say “yes.”

This is to be the centerpiece of a future envisioned exhibit that intends to lend voice to grieving parents like us in our social purgatory. I interviewed over twenty different parents from various parts of the world who have lost a child just as we did. From those conversations, I created this collage representing each of them and the stories they shared. Arul who is still deeply distraught after years without his son. Carol does not recognize her own face in the mirror. Craig is analytical and started a support group for men. The essence, not necessarily the likeness, of each person is represented.

To create the canvas, in late spring of 2023, I went to Buinho Creative Hub in a small town called Messejana, Portugal, to spend over a month in residency. A friend suggested that I remove myself from my own familiar surroundings to fully immerse myself in the project. Buinho procured the canvas in advance, and I got right to work. We transported the canvas back to Florida when it was time to come home.

Much work must be done to complete the exhibit. As for this piece, to date, it has been on display at a one-night event at the Orlando Museum of Art in Florida and at Espacio Cómplices in Madrid, Spain. It has already crossed the Atlantic Ocean three times in 2023.