The Last Photo
May 12th, 2008Mourning the loss of a good, good friend.
This is the last photo that I have of my best friend. It was taken the year before he died of cancer. I had flown up to see him after he had called to tell me was dying. It was a very cold April in the Chicago area. We had a really good, but all too short, visit.
Several weeks ago I started to paint this photo as a way of honoring his memory. I’m also hoping it will help me in the grieving process. He’s one of the people I find it hard to not ruminate about. I hadn’t talked to him for a while when his wife called and said they lost all contact with him for several weeks. They’d finally found him in a friend’s apartment, laying in bed, not eating, taking his meds or going to get chemo. They finally talked him into going to the hospital for treatment to hopefully regain some strength so he could go home to die.
I tried several times to call him but each time he was given the phone he wouldn’t talk and hung-up. When he got out of the hospital he went to his mom’s house. I tried several more times to call but each time he refused my call.
I felt terrible. We’d had an argument earlier and I didn’t know if he was still mad at me or was in a stage of withdrawal from the world because of his cancer. Another friend of mine had two friends who had died of cancer and he said they both shut him out at the end. He thought it was a way for them to deal with the heartache of their situation and a desire for privacy in one of the most intimate of life’s experiences.
He died before I could tell him that I loved him one last time.
When I lay in bed at night I often think of him, pray for him and talk to him. I ask for his forgiveness for the way it ended. Mike, I hope you hear me. I love you, miss you and will never forget you.
I’m struggling with letting go of my perfectionism when I paint. I want to loosen up more. It’s hard to not get frustrated with my painting ability. I fear it’s gotten a little rusty from disuse.
Still I think facing my grief for him head on through painting him will help me deal with my guilt for the way it fell apart at the end.
If it turns out I think I’ll send it to his parents and maybe do another photo of him holding his son for his wife.
May 12th, 2008 at 4:50 pm
Art has tremendous healing power. My best friend, an artist, died of cancer, too. He was 36. In the last year of his life, he used his art to express his experience of facing death - and he produced the most powerful and beautiful work of his life.
All these years since he’s been gone, I’ve missed him terribly - there was nobody else like him before or since. I still feel the close bond that we had - it’s still there strong as ever. At the end of his life (the final week), I withdrew when all his family flew in to stay with him. So I never said my final goodbyeIloveyou, and I wasn’t there at the end. But you know? He’s still my best my dearest friend. And always will be.
The photos of your friend are wonderful, and your portrait of him looks like it’s taking fine shape. What a lovely tribute. Thank you for sharing this.
May 12th, 2008 at 7:15 pm
Faith,
Sounds like we have a lot in common . . . a black dog, best friends dying of cancer, withdrawal, art, etc. I wish I could see your friend’s art.
It’s funny how critical I am of my own work. My son and his girlfriend commented recently how good it was. Wonder why I don’t want to accept that. Damn dog.
May 13th, 2008 at 11:24 am
The drawing the way it is, looks like your friend appears to be in between worlds. It looks to me like you may not be sure where you stand with your friend. See how you’ve drawn his face a little slimmer than it really is? Maybe when the you’ve totally come to terms with the “whole picture”, then the painting may take on more solidness. Or maybe what you have done is all that is there. In the meantime, what is there already….says a lot.
I wouldn’t say damn dog. I would ask, why is the dog there? Maybe an image of the black dog should be curled up by your friend. As in children’s art….it is not about what is good, it is about the physical part of doing it. Just by picking up the pencil you are expressing something…. and yes, how good that is. What is going through your mind when you hold that pencil to the paper to create that image of your friend? It’s all part of the journey of grief and what you are going to learn from it.
Remember art is an expression……and dog is god spelled backwards…..
Sigh!
May 14th, 2008 at 3:17 pm
Lisa,
I associate perfectionism with my black dog. It keeps me from loosening up, accepting things as they are, etc. You are right in the important thing is to just keep making art. Eventually it will come . . .