Afternoon Nap Afternoon naps were a common practice at Gram and Gramp’s house. The clock reads 2:20pm and Gram is curled up in the covers, snoozing away. The baby monitor is on, echoing the sound of any visitors who come in. I never went into their bedroom until Gram got sick. After, I spent many times sitting on the edge of her bed while she rested or helping her get up. It was always a team effort.

Gram & Gramp

Gramp Organizing Medications Taking medications was always an essential part of the day for Gramp and Gramp. They had those weekly organizers to put them in but it truly became a full-time job. My Aunt Tammy would carefully go through them, making sure the doses were correct and that they were the right ones to begin with. Sometimes, pills would be crushed or split. But I’ll never forget the way Gram would hold one between her teeth in an act of defiance. As if to say, “I found it and you can’t make me take it!”

Gram Lifting Weights The majority of the time I spent photographing during my senior year in college at RISD, Miriam was the aide who would spend the most time with Grandma. We loved Miriam. She pushed Gram to walk across the house with a walker, lift weights, and play catch with her. She painted her nails and truly went above and beyond to help both Grandma and Grandpa around the house. Here she is in her recliner doing her exercises with her, Miriam out of frame.

Checking Vitals Gram looks at the camera as she gets her vitals checked—a regular occurrence at their home. People were often coming and going to help out with something around the house or to check in on Grandma. She is still in her recliner, where she spends the majority of her day, and even her nails are painted a deep red.

Gram's Manicure Gram always had her nails done. Pinks and purples and sometimes crazy colors would appear after various visits with family and aides. But her nails were always long and important to her sense of identity. The way she would move her thumbs together, rubbing them back and forth, was always a Grandma thing—even before the Alzheimer’s appeared. The way she would tuck a tissue up her sleeve or into a pocket for later was always a Grandma thing. I found it fascinating to find these quirks that continued despite her memory loss.

Greeting Mr. Rooster Gram and Gramp have this famous photo in our family at the town anniversary ball. Gramp told me he felt weird dressing up all fancy in a suit and tie, so he decided to wear his favorite overalls instead and come as a farmer––even bringing his pet rooster. On this day, we tried our best to recreate that famous family photograph in their backyard with Uncle Adam’s rooster. I’ll never forget Gramp going after that rooster. Its eye was piercing with fear as he clutched it, waiting for Miriam to wheel Gram out to the chicken coop for the photo. It’s hard to know if she knew what was going on but by the look on her face, I’m sure she thought we were crazy.

Gram and Her Wedding Dress Gram’s wedding dress hangs in the hallway from the living room to the office, her hands feeling the lace. You can see all the artifacts of their lives on the walls in the background—Grandpa’s awards, paintings, and various knick-knacks collected over the years. While this was an attempt at referencing an important memory for her, I’m not sure she knew the connection between her dress and the memories that it carried.

Gram and Abe Gram sits in her recliner, her legs crossed, resting her eyes as she does frequently each day. It is evening time, and the only light is from the warm cast of the lamp to the right. Her head and arms are propped up by decorative pillows. An image of the Lincoln Memorial looms over her head, Abe almost mimicking her posture.

A Glimpse of Beauty That morning, Grandma got her hair and makeup done by Miriam, one of her aides. Miriam was a special person in our lives for some time. After being all dolled up, Grandpa came over with the mirror, and I had to capture this small yet fleeting moment of them together. I always wondered what Grandma saw in the mirror. Because she was often so quiet due to the progression of her Alzheimer’s, it was always hard to tell what she knew. Was she staring at herself objectively? Was she thinking about a former version of herself? Or was she unaware altogether?

Thanksgiving Lunch Thanksgiving was always a very important holiday at Gram and Gramp’s house considering our genealogical ties to the Mayflower. I think about the way they celebrated holidays with great pride in the United States and how I feel different about them now. Gramp would go pick up the fresh bird from the farm down the street, carving it at the table with satisfaction. He would slice it evenly, presenting a plate to each member of the family. Gram always liked the dark meat and he would serve it to her directly on one of their dark brown plates.

Dad Helping Bring Gram Inside

On a Walk with Gramp

Tammy Helping Gram with Her Jacket My Aunt Tammy helps Gram with her jacket as we go outside as a family for Easter. Caregiving is sometimes small tasks like this—pulling her arm through a sleeve so that she is warm.

Gram in Maine

Gramp as Uncle Sam Every 4th of July, Gramp would dress as a clown version of Uncle Sam for the local Independence Day parade in town. He always loved dressing up, but for some reason, I knew this would be the last time. When we were little, all the grandkids would run into his bedroom while he was getting ready and ask to get our faces painted. He would carefully brush red, white, and blue stars onto our cheeks. It was always an event we looked forward to every year.

Feeding the Chickens Gram's Lunch

After the Rain It rained hard that morning, and when I came to visit my Grandparents' home, I had a vision to position my Grandpa in front of the door. He often collaborated with me that way, helping me make an image come to life. He had a heart attack earlier that month and almost didn't make it. This image represents a bittersweet foreshadowing of what was to come in my mind. This would be the last photograph we made together.

Paying Respect (Farewell) The Japanese Quince in the yard started blooming, and as soon as I saw his New England Patriots hat, I knew I had to create an image with him. For me, this image is a gesture to my Grandmother, as if saying goodbye while referencing his New England roots.

Tammy & Andrew The Japanese Quince in the yard started blooming again a year after Gramp had passed and I knew I needed to reference the previous photograph of him standing in the same spot on the stone step saying goodbye. My Aunt Tammy and Cousin Andrew embrace each other, holding on, while thinking of him. Rephotographing and using locations as sites of memories became more and more important after my Grandparents’ passing.

Grandpa's Bride Gramp and I collaborated on this photograph together. I wanted to get a picture of Grandma’s high school photo in front of the flowers. I loved the way his hand held the frame, his class ring also in view, remembering who she was before this day in time.

Andrew on Gram's Bed Only a few hours before this photograph, we had moved Grandma into the nursing home. My cousin Andrew sits on her bed at home, exhausted from the day. You can see the rooster stitched into the quilt and the lamp from Grandpa’s nightstand behind him, referencing previous photographs. I find this to be a moment of pause for what is yet to come.

Saying Goodbye No words can truly describe how painful it was to make this photograph. We were saying goodbye to Grandpa, and my cousin Katie was brought to tears, hugging my Aunt Tammy tightly. I share this photograph because we all felt like she did—incredibly sad and clutching onto each other for safety. This was the frightening reality we had to face and are still facing today.

Latham Mailbox The Latham family mailbox was always such an iconic part of their property of over 50 years, despite having been beaten up over time. Gramp painted it himself. Here, you can see the plants overtaking it, just like the rest of the property. No one is left to cut back the weeds. The house would be sold later that month.

Front Door Flag The iconic green paint of their front door, now cracked, acts as a mirror to view the faded American flag swaying back and forth in the slight breeze. You can notice the overgrown vines of the beach roses, transplanted from West Island where my Grandparents experienced their budding romance as teenagers. I find this photograph to be a portrait of them without them there––evidence of their presence in their absence.

Bedroom Light (Empty) All of a sudden everyone is gone. Everything disappears and all that is left is the floral wallpaper and the light cast from Gram’s bedroom window. Evidence that this all wasn’t just a dream?

Dad's Bedroom (Empty)

Final Cleanup