This project follows my dad’s father and my mom’s mother as they move through memory loss, dementia, and Alzheimer’s. I was documenting two parallel experiences unfolding at the same time across both sides of my family.

Memory loss is a long goodbye. It’s not one moment, but something drawn out. In both of their lives, it unfolded after the loss of their spouses, and what remains is care carried by their children and grandchildren.

 I’m interested in what remains when memory becomes unreliable, not only in the mind, but in the body, in touch, in daily care, and  in the spaces, objects, and people left behind. I photograph the ordinary moments alongside the more difficult ones and the process of moving through familiar spaces as they become unfamiliar.

My grandpa died in March 2026, and his part of the project has changed with his absence. I can no longer photograph him, but his presence remains in the homes and belongings he left behind. His story continues with what remains.

My grandma’s story is still unfolding, she now lives in assisted living closer to our family, where I am able to see her more often and photograph the ordinary parts of her life that continue to make up who she is.

In documenting them both, I have been thinking about what it means to remain present through a period of change, and what it means to document someone after they lose a part of themselves. This work is about holding onto moments when the future feels uncertain, and about the ways memory can survive through photographs, objects, spaces, and the people left behind.