This series is about my experience with grieving and loss. I got news this past quarter that my best friend’s mother had cancer, and soon after being diagnosed, died. My best friend and I were inseparable growing up, and this woman was someone I considered as a second mother. The hurt at her loss was penetrating, and unlike anything I had experienced before. Susan had been a major presence in my life from the time I was six years old. I’ve lost other people in my life, but no one as irreplaceable as Susan.
During this time, I thought about my hometown, and visualized a house. The house was symbolic of my sense of family and sense of grounding in this world. I thought about what I was feeling, and how I could project that onto the dollhouse. There was this immense sadness that weighed me down and overwhelmed me, like a flood. In the middle of that, there were these irrational fiery bursts of anger. Then there was the idea of the tediousness of grieving. Ultimately, I resented the grieving process, and realized that nothing I could do would make it go any faster or slower. It was tedious and absurd, much like me banging my dollhouse with a hammer. There was no point. It was already destroyed.