Until the end of our days
In a long lasting marriage, there is a forgotten inevitability: there is always one perishing first. Until death tear us apart, they say, and that’s how it is. Remain the photo frames of a long life together, the children, the grandchildren, and a house full of objects reminding us who left. The life partner is now just the silence of the nightfall and the dawn break, a black headscarf stating the pain towards people, a room full of cats waiting for that person to return home, a feeling of loneliness that will last until the end of our days. My grandfather died, but the most difficult part was watching my grandma mourning his death.
Full article in Público, P3
Until the end of our days
Trabalho documental sobre o luto, publicado no jornal P3 do Público.