The song and video both hit home very closely as I lost my grandpa, who lived in our home for over ten years, to pneumonia at the beginning of the summer. What Björk describes in her mother despising doctors and hospitals, my grandpa was the same, and the verse
When you're out of time
How you look back changes
Did you punish us for leaving?
Are you sure we hurt you?
Was it just not living?
takes me back to the day of his hospitalization due to just how low his oxygenation got, and it was unbearable to hear him struggle for air and constantly shout our name out, asking for painkillers because of how bad his headaches got. But the thing is, he had always said he wouldn't want to be hospitalized. And because of the virus, it was impossible to see him at any point during his hospital stay, and not even after he passed, as he was cremated right away.
I am grateful I got to hug him, give him a blessing and tell him that things would go well as he was leaving with my parents and uncle, and especially that the doctors kindly let my mom say her goodbyes on our behalf through a video, but I did mourn the inability to properly have a goodbye to his physical presence... and through Ancestress and the procession that's equal parts the making of Björk's imagination, and tradition, grief and celebration, I feel like I am there with my mom, carrying his ashes and biding him farewell with my own words. And now that I have this gorgeously orchestrated, lively, generations-spawning ode to a loved one coming at the right time for me to feel understood and healed by it – thank you, Bee.