Stolen

StolenOn an early autumn day, I was walking the streets of my suburban neighbourhood, and I couldnt help but notice the still brilliant yet fading colours of the hydrangea flowers. While slightly frayed at the edges, they were still utterly stunning. They made me think of my wife. In February 2021, my wife was formally diagnosed with young onset Alzheimers disease. Though still active and vibrant, just 55 years of age, the label did not sit well with her.

On an early autumn day, I was walking the streets of my suburban neighbourhood, and I couldnÕt help but notice the still brilliant yet fading colours of the hydrangea flowers. While slightly frayed at the edges, they were still utterly stunning. They made me think of my wife.

In February 2021, my wife was formally diagnosed with young onset AlzheimerÕs disease. Though still active and vibrant, just 55 years of age, the label did not sit well with her. My wife is one of a growing number in the millions around the world who are having to live with the dreaded disease.

I saw AlzheimerÕs in those hydrangea flowers. When paired together, two blossoms took on a familiar lookÑone that my wife and I have seen in clinical digital outputs that have documented her gradually diminishing brain activity. Like the blossoms, delicate and fragile, her brain is deteriorating at the fringes. She is slowly being robbed of her memoriesÑher pastÑand a future as well. Still, there is so much beauty that remains in the present that is worth celebrating and honouring.

This project was conceived as part of my studies working towards a Masters in Photography at Falmouth University in the U.K. It is a personal exploration of beauty and joy while dealing with a shared loss and grief that we live with every day. The work has been part of a healing process for my wife and me. I hope too that the images serve as a source of healing for others as well.

Proceeds from the sale of this book will go towards Alzheimer Society of Canada.