30" x 36" Permanent Pigment Ink Jet
My brother died this past summer. As with most brothers I suppose, he was incredibly special to our family and his death brought more sorrow than what I was prepared for. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross states that there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I really can’t tell which stage I am currently in, only that I miss him more than words can express.
While our family has lost several members over the past few years, my brother’s death was rather unique. My brother had Down syndrome and was never capable of living a productive life by typical western standards. He never held a job, and lived with our mom until his death. When others in our family had died, there were affairs to be settled. There was money, land, homes, and other things of monetary value to be sorted. When my brother died, he slipped quietly away leaving only a small room of personal belongings for the mourners to decide upon. We each chose items that most reminded us of him. For me, that was a large collection of white t-shirts. He slept in one of these every single night of his life. The neatly folded tees stacked in his top dresser drawer even still smelled like him.
So often the emphases on sorting money, land, stocks, etc… distract us from what was really so very important in the life of our loved ones, that being our connection to them – familial love. My brother was always a type of teacher to me; he simplified things in a world continually growing in complexities. And even in his death, he continued to teach. Within his small room of belongings, I found something rather priceless, the scent of the brother who had loved me unconditionally and of whom I had loved back in the same manner. This body of work is dedicated to him and I hope may serve as some comfort to those that share in its sentiment.
My brother died this past summer. As with most brothers I suppose, he was incredibly special to our family and his death brought more sorrow than what I was prepared for. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross states that there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I really can’t tell which stage I am currently in, only that I miss him more than words can express.
While our family has lost several members over the past few years, my brother’s death was rather unique. My brother had Down syndrome and was never capable of living a productive life by typical western standards. He never held a job, and lived with our mom until his death. When others in our family had died, there were affairs to be settled. There was money, land, homes, and other things of monetary value to be sorted. When my brother died, he slipped quietly away leaving only a small room of personal belongings for the mourners to decide upon. We each chose items that most reminded us of him. For me, that was a large collection of white t-shirts. He slept in one of these every single night of his life. The neatly folded tees stacked in his top dresser drawer even still smelled like him.
So often the emphases on sorting money, land, stocks, etc… distract us from what was really so very important in the life of our loved ones, that being our connection to them – familial love. My brother was always a type of teacher to me; he simplified things in a world continually growing in complexities. And even in his death, he continued to teach. Within his small room of belongings, I found something rather priceless, the scent of the brother who had loved me unconditionally and of whom I had loved back in the same manner. This body of work is dedicated to him and I hope may serve as some comfort to those that share in its sentiment.