“I took him to my mother’s funeral, and to the burial, but when we got home, he’d ask me every 15-20 minutes where my mother was. I’d explain carefully that she had died and we’d been to her funeral
… He had no memory of these events
… After a while, I realized I couldn’t keep telling him that his wife had died
… I decided to tell him she’d gone to Paris, to take care of her brother, who was sick. And that’s where she is now.”
A powerful photo essay from Phil Toledano.