The collection I have assembled is a personal story that captures the memories of my grandmother, whom I affectionately called “Aziz” (meaning “dearly”). Aziz lost her husband at a young age and raised her eight children in a new and unfamiliar city.
One of Aziz’s sons, Muhammad, was a soldier who went to fight in the Iran-Iraq war but never returned home. He was among the soldiers listed as missing in action (MIA), leaving no trace of his whereabouts. Even years after the war had ended, Aziz still waited for her son’s return, hoping that every ring of the phone or knock at the door would be Muhammad coming home.
In the last years of her life, Aziz suffered from Alzheimer’s disease and could only remember the name and memories of her beloved son Muhammad among all her children and grandchildren. Twenty years after the war had ended, Muhammad’s tag was found, but Aziz remained steadfast in her belief that her son was still out there, living only in her memories.
During her time living with us, Aziz’s Alzheimer’s seemed to give her a form of self-help, allowing her to forget the pain of her son’s separation. In this collection, I have taken photos of Aziz and blended them with images from her family album, in an attempt to explore her timeless and placeless mind that is always searching for her beloved Muhammad.