In January 2021, we found out that our expected granddaughter had a rare genetic disorder (Trisomy 13) in which the possibility of her even making it to birth was extremely rare. If she did survive being born, she would not survive very long afterward. All we could do was place her life, her parents’ health and safety, and our faith in God’s hands. While she only lived for a few minutes, the right doctors, nurses, and timing were in place so that her entire family could love and hold her during those short and beautiful seconds of her precious life. How something so devastating; can there also be these gifts given to us, such as being granted a few moments to love someone so intensely before they leave this world? Yet, even with all the blessings, I cannot let go of this pain. Seeing your children go through what should have been the joys of the beginning of their family only gets collected into pools of sorrow and questions.
I hold onto those seconds is a recent series of work that tries to comprehend. Through: drive-by photographs of scarred landscapes; journal entries that have been erased and re-written multiple times, leaving a mere impression of their former memories, only to soon become illegible marks of graphite; scraped on paint and antique wallpaper applied to the surface is meant to remind what was lost, but at times, obstructs all other relationships, I am trying to work through the pain and come to a place of healing and rest.