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Wednesday 14 April 2010

Belongings, in boxes and out of them.


I have been opening the box, literally and metaphorically, on my father's possessions. The real objects that I have kept of his fit into a shoe box (a makeshift memory box that I've never had the heart to improve upon). They consist of the following:

A pair of leather driving gloves
A Roget's thesaurus, cover missing.
A waxed cotton hat with check lining
A horses bit (that's the metal thing that goes in the horses mouth)
A heart-shaped wooden box, sealed with sellotape containing some of his (grey) hairs.
A framed black and white photograph of my father aged around 8
A metal sweet box containing dried rose petals
A CD of Jacques Loussier

I have always treated these things with the reverence and solemnity of religious relics. I occasionally would come across the box, in some tidying session or house move, and pick warily over the contents, handling them like museum exhibits. Usually I would just feel sad or dragged down. Then I'd put them away again.
I am now trying to unpack this box a little more. I am photographing the objects and I am working out how I can treat them with a little less reverence and bring a little more of myself into the equation. Growing up with my dad was to grow up not knowing how to do right by him, what I meant to him or how to connect. It meant pushing myself to one side and trying to live out some imagined life. There seemed very little that was Real, that was pulsating with Life. All was hollow, at a distance, removed.
So now here I am with this box of solid objects that I still cannot connect to an actual person because he never seemed real, even in life. Instead I am having to delve inside myself and try to find the belief that I can be free of my father's suicide and his depression. I am trying to work out what to do with these objects - should I bury them, should I give them away, put them back in the box, or should I try to re-make them, to somehow put myself into the frame with them?
Answers on a postcard, please...

You are not alone.

If you have lost a loved one to suicide, this may help you to realise that you are not alone. 
There are others out there who have been bereaved in this way. 
These are bits a pieces of my own experiences. 
I hope they may help in some way.