ENTRY DESCRIPTION
From shallow mass graves in Kosovo to bloody battlefields in Helmand province, I have covered some pretty tough photographic assignments in my life. But this has been, by far, the hardest of all: documenting the day my father moved into a full-time care facility for people with stage four Dementia.

Battling with my inner ethical issues over whether or not to photograph the event was a struggle from the start, but my father raised me always to tell the truth and in the end, that’s what won me over.

How could I continue to crash into people’s lives with my camera when they are at their most vulnerable and yet not have the courage to do it with my own family? The answer was staring me in the face. Not to document this would have been a blatant double standard.

During the five days, I spent with my dad in his new home, the camera did not provide the protection I had hoped it would. During previous difficult assignments, the camera was always my primary protector, providing a small barrier

There was no stopping or hiding my tears as I photographed the raw love my mum and sisters were displaying as they tended to my once strong and proud father – now a frail shadow of his former self.

He is only capable of small slow steps now - his walk a shuffle. He is also badly hunched over, barely recognisable as the man I used to know. He looks at me and I realise he has no idea who I am.

It’s truly soul destroying. But he is still my dad and I love him dearly.

My raw overpowering emotion at his decline, coupled with watching my distraught mother and sisters throughout the process, will stay with me forever.

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