The Long Mourning
Dad’s Dementia
“You used to climb the mountain to cut a Christmas tree –
Now you sit 3 feet from the TV screen with your back against the world”
Helpless
I try to help Dad cope during the last 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.
“At least we found a nursing home close to the Farm -
at the other end of the lake”
“It doesn’t matter how far away the Farm is, because they won’t let me go back there...”
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. 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 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.
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.