Spain & Tampa, Florida
How does it feel to be deprived of the essential human need of saying goodbye?
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On March 26th, 2020, my older sister, Ana Teresa Sanfiz, put an end to her life at 44 years of age in Tarragona, Spain. Eleven days earlier the Spanish government announced a nationwide lockdown to fight the coronavirus pandemic COVID-19. She lived with my mother all her life as she battled a neurodegenerative disease. My mother had to mourn and learn to live in a lockdown for the following 60 days.
From Tampa, I had to mourn with my mother in the distance as we waited for air traffic to resume.
When ovations replaced hugs
Since the lockdown began in Spain, people gathered in their balconies at 8 pm to express their support to the healthcare workers with a standing ovation. On March 27th, when attending cremations and funerals was restricted to two people, our only way to come together to honor and celebrate my sister was that standing ovation. “Today, this is for Ana”.
For the following days 60 days, that ovation became a daily act of unity and resilience for my mother and me. A daily reminder that we were one day closer to mourning together, a daily opportunity to say her name out loud.
“The story of the devastating loss of her sister at the beginning of 2020 serves a dual purpose: to stand as a historic record of what life was like for many during this unprecedented time, and to bring awareness to the often-taboo subject of death by suicide. Heavy subjects, certainly, and Sanfiz handles the aftermath with a keen, unflinching eye. Yet each frame is imbued with love and tenderness, drawing us, the viewers, into her story of how to celebrate a life even while mourning its loss during epic times, even separated by continents and oceans. As she reminds us in her artist statement: “You felt alone, but you were not alone.””
