Dedicated to those who don't feel like their houses are homes- whatever the reason may be.

In 2011, my father collapsed in the tub. He would later die in the hospital.

It was around 4:30am- he used to wake up so early in the morning to get ready for work. I remember my mother screaming. She had heard him collapse. I was in a deep sleep and I ate toy woke up in a panic. Could barely find the phone to call 911. I remember passing the bathroom door and looking in to what looked like a surreal scene of my mother on her knees, trying to get my father to come to. It was like it was all a movie.

When the paramedics came, they grabbed my father from the tub and dragged him out of the bathroom. I remember my father’s lifeless body slid from their fingers and he fell on his back onto the hardwood floors, the back of his head making a sickening thud sound as it hit the floor. I hoped my mother hadn’t seen that. I turned to face her and realized she had.

I remember thinking that I couldn’t live in the house anymore because of all that trauma. I thought to myself, how could I? It took me so long to be comfortable in my own home again. This photo was directly inspired by how I felt. I felt like I had violently and traumatically lost so much.

Fast forward to this year to the beginning of July. My mother had a massive stroke, right here in the same house. But she survived. She survived and I’m grateful but the trauma has come back. Sometimes it’s hard to live with so much pain and heartache- it feels like it gets trapped in the walls. Eventually, it goes away.

I wanted to make this piece available to anyone who understands this feeling. You’re not alone. Things still het better.