visual diary 81 _ ghosts inside us
this post deals with losing people you love.
The People You Love Become Ghosts Inside You, And Like This You Keep Them Alive.
— Rob Montgomer
last friday was another birthday of my grandfather he could never celebrate. the years are passing. memories get lost. but there are certain reminders. for example a small pink note from him i keep in a red casket. that day i asked my whole family to write something down for me, he wrote something like “today we visited fulda. the sun was shining. it was a wonderful day.” such an optimist and i think this is why i keep this note. everytime i read it i smile – he already knew he would die without the chance to see his daughter get the kids she wanted so badly, without the chance to spend after a life full of work the retirement with his wife and to see me, his beloved grandchild, grow up, but he would see the beauty around him and appreciate it. to lose a person you love changes you in many ways. i had nightmares for the next ten years and it certainly affected me in other ways and i can’t capture what it did to the rest of the family. on holidays we eat in the living room and at the end of the table stand a picture of him. sometimes i wish they would let him go further away. every other year i visit the graveyard and talk with him and to know how much he trusted in me was at certain points in my life a warm blanked i needed. i experienced a lot of love and care from my grandfather when i was little.
i find traces in me, marks on me. i am so curious about so many things like he was. never getting tired of learning new things and trying to understand how this world works. some years ago i saw pictures he took (he created an endless archive of the time he had together with his family) and they are so good – the light, the perspective, the stories some of them tell. he spent his whole life in two villages, which are very close by, and he never travelled a lot, the borders of the german democratic republic were so close, he took nearly all the pictures nearby his home. he looked at the microcosmos around him with awake and often loving eyes. i wish he could have teached me how to take pictures with an analogue camera and even more to value the everyday things and this strong sense of belonging. i have no idea how it would have affected our relationship that i came out as queer or that i as a teenager wasn*t paying any attention to anyone’s advices crossing every boundary. but honestly, i think it isn’t important. my point is a different one. i don’t feel like i truely lost him. we can’t own people and just as well we can’t lose them. and when i picked up a zine titled ghosts inside us at the zine fest in berlin and i read these words i found a sense of home in them.