The distance between grief and love
Last night, when I couldn’t sleep due to my chronic body pain and the busy whirring thoughts in my head I began scrolling through my photos from most recent to oldest to find all of the images and videos of my beloved Archie.
Archie came into our lives in 2019 from the Wadena Humane Society. It was love at first sight from the photos of him on the website. He was on bite quarantine when I called to inquire about him.
“What does that mean?” I asked innocently.
“Well, he was just returned for biting the person who adopted him. And he needs to be monitored and not bite anyone otherwise he might have to be put down,” the WHS staff informed me.
I was unperturbed and committed to him.
He was a big personality and presence in seven pounds of chihuahua form.
I asked about another dog that only had one picture but had also been rescued from the same Texas kill shelter.
“I think Dina would get along well with Archie.”
They met for the first time when Vaimo and I met them. Dina the 10 pound Chiweenie was so depressed and sad.
We brought them both to the ChicFinn and we had so many adventures and lessons. Hard times, and good times and they humored my desire to make them my muses.
It’s April 2025 and I have lived nine months without Dina. And now, Archie, my ‘Chito Puff, one of the loves of my life, has crossed the rainbow bridge on Wednesday afternoon.
I’ve cried so many times experiencing the firsts without both of them recently.
I’m trying not to embody the dicho that begins the introduction of my mentor Edén Torres’ book Chicana without Apology, “No hay tiempo ni espacio para llorar/There is neither time nor space to cry.” But, I feel that tendency trying to creep up on me when I try to muscle through my to-do list.
Where is the time or space to grieve?
Archie’s departure is bringing me back to the sadness of losing Dina last year.
I also lost both of my grandmothers in 2024.
When I look back through my phone’s camera roll to 2019 so much has happened and I feel the grief piling up.
But maybe it’s true what they say, your well of grief is reflecting the depth of your love.
And I know Archie taught me about the depth of my ability to love - and I’ve surprised myself with my capacity to expand my heart in relation to the well of my grief to carry.
My human loved ones have benefited from these lessons.
I’m raw and tender as I navigate this messy human experience of grieving through distraction, workaholism, and my usual coping tools. But, please know, this version of KCF is crying openly and making space and time for feeling and moving the grief.
I’m proud of myself for crying so much lately.
Maybe this can be a portal to release some other griefs.
Speaking of griefs, I wanted to invite you to my Artist Talk at the Spencer Museum of Art in Lawrence, KS Friday April 18 from 3:00-4:00pm. I’ll be there in conversation with another Chicanx scholar - Lena Mose-Vargas about my diptych which is currently part of the Bold Women show up through July 6th (can’t travel - click that hyperlink to see a virtual view of the exhibition). If you live near KU please come join me!
I am very much looking forward to this talk because I know I’m here on this planet at this time to heal my ancestral line traumas and work through the well of grief I’ve inherited that is collective and familial.
Even as I grieve, I’m still trying to find the loving response.
With painting, I’m up to the task.
Love,
Kandace