The Long Mourning

Dad, Dementia, and Me

Empty

When Dad disappears…

Possessed

Ready, Aim – his wife is the target.

Longing

His Loss – My Loss

Threatening

Stay Out of His Kitchen!

Helpless

I try to help Dad cope during the last 3 years of his life, avoiding topics that upset him, letting him vent frustrations – holding his hand the way he used to support me. But his story will end, and I feel helpless.

Memories

The stories he told.

Missing Man

Dad is a prisoner.

Distance

He’s slipping away…

Falling

My Childhood – His Life

Out of Reach

Dad says, “Nursing homes are where old people go to die.” The care-givers are “nice enough, but the food is not the Ritz.” He wants the doctor to give the “all-clear” so he can go back home to the Farm. I sympathize while knowing he will never return home again.

Project Statement

The Long Mourning is about dementia, my dad, and how it felt to watch his life deteriorate.

The diptychs evolved after three years of photographing every moment of our visits, then continuing to record my reactions as I wandered the places of shared memories in an effort to decompress before the next day’s visit.

It’s a story told from two angles — the state of my dad during our conversations, with all his frustrations and longing, and how his condition affected me and my desire to understand what he was going through.

The title refers to all those years when I lived without my dad. Starting at age 7 after the divorce, Mom moved the kids to a new country. During my late forties, Dad’s alcohol intake and increased agitation made him impossible to visit for more than 36 hours. In his final years, isolated from society, I tried my best to give him back the moments we had lost.

Details about making the photos

I hadn’t planned to make photos of Dad, until the moment I stepped in the hospital and realized this might be the last time we meet. So I pulled out the iPhone, which turned out to be the perfect camera: unobtrusive, didn’t interfere with our conversations — he felt at ease, and I recorded the real Dad. The iPhone softened this harsh reality, while its smaller frame size accentuated the deterioration of his quality of life. Making the diptychs was a process of feeling the connection, not overthinking. I played with repeating shapes and lines, but wanted each pairing to share a conceptual meaning. The project isn’t quite finished yet.