I couldn’t bring myself to photograph my mother very often during the long months I spent watching her disappear. Despite a disconcerting lack of self-awareness, the camera made her self-conscious, and I couldn’t bring myself to impose that on her. Instead, I pointed the camera in the other direction, curious to see what was happening outside our tiny bubble of meals and medication management. I documented meticulously, almost scientifically, trying to capture every nuance of life and death in what felt like a state of desperation; an attempt to freeze the world until I was free to actually see it.