Drawing in memoriam helps me process loss. Makes me feel like I’m doing something to honor the person. Figure out how to shape their absence. They’re gone, but there’s something new of them.
My friend Jack died the other day. Jack was nice to me and sat funny and picked through the nut dish at my parents’ parties like he was on to something. Most of my memories of him are conversations I’ve had about him with people who knew him better. He’s maybe more of my older brother’s best friend’s dad. Or maybe more of my mom’s colleague or my parents’ friend or Nancy’s husband. Mostly, to me now, he’s a dead dad. I want to give Seth a big hug, but he’s far away. This is a drawing of a Jack I knew. Lots of love.