Where Grief Softens
Healing through Art and Life
I recently went to a funeral for my best friend’s father. The priest seemed very kind and genuine; I liked his energy. He said something that resonated with me so much so that I want to share it with you this month. He said that we all die twice; once when our souls leave our bodies and once again when people stop sharing our stories.
Suffering my own great loss just over a year ago of my Jeff, my person, the love of my life, I have been struggling on how to move forward without him. All of last year was a blur of denial, sadness, guilt, exhaustion, and anger on repeat. And while all these things still surface and probably will for the rest of my life to some extent, sadness is what lingers most. Denial is slowly fading into acceptance. To accept is the most difficult thing of all.
As I attempt to slowly join the living again, I’ve found it essential to my well-being that I try to keep Jeff alive by sharing his story, sharing our story with others; to share how special he was, to share with the world that he mattered, to share the legacy that he left behind…all the things. Jeff would have been 47 years old this month. On his birthday month, I would like to share a silly little memory of him.
As some of you may know, Jeff was a genius musician, specializing in guitar. He was very modest and quiet about his gifts, but every once in a while, he would open up. He once told me that the reason his fingers are so fast and he’s such a good guitar player is because of his “lady” pointer fingers. I looked at him and smiled. “What?” I asked. He held up his hand to show me his pointer finger, and I laughed until I cried because it did indeed look like a lady’s finger. Imagine a very masculine man, 6’4” mind you, holding up his very feminine finger. It was adorable. I hope that gave you a little smile.
In addition to sharing Jeff’s stories, I have found comfort in what I love to do most. I can’t see him anymore, but I see him in every silhouette that I paint. I can’t touch him anymore, but I imagine touching him as I paint his long arms, his long, lean legs in black Levi jeans, and capturing his kind soul as often as I can. He is very much all around me, and I am most connected to him through my art and through his music. This is, for me, where grief softens most.
This month, in my painting The Quiet After Goodbye, I wanted to hold the feeling of a home once filled with love and laughter, now resting in quiet stillness. Even in the darkest of silences, love remains. If you’ve ever walked into a room and felt a memory in silence, this piece might speak to you.
In the year and some months that have passed, I’ve found myself deeply connected to so many of you through your own experiences of loss. I hope you know that you are not alone and you are not a crazy person, even though you might feel that way more often than not.
My work has always been about healing and calm spaces, helping each other breathe, not only from loss but from the challenges of life. I hope my words today inspire you to share your stories with others, as your loved ones live on now only through your memories and through sharing them, at least until we get to the other side.
With much love and gratitude,
Daniela
PS - Please feel free to share your stories in the comments if the mood moves you.
To listen to the last album of From Beyond These Walls (Jeff’s amazing band), click HERE.
(He was also a member of the bands Death Pose and Rhone should you like to take a listen.)
To shop original paintings, click HERE.
To shop fine art prints, click HERE.
Follow my work at @myartistsoul on Instagram.
Follow my work at @myartistsoul.dm on Facebook.