According to Barthes, the photographic image has the power to make us feel the absence of what it represents, as if the photograph itself were a constant mourning—a reminder of what is lost and, at the same time, an attempt to keep it present.
This time, I wanted to remember her—my grandmother. Sometimes I feel like I’ve forgotten her voice; other times, I can't find her in the photos I look at. When she left, the one who claimed to love her did not stand by her. Erasing him from these memories felt like an act of justice.