Afsaneh Box II | 2014
As the paramedics took Afsaneh out of the front door she asked me to grab her handbag. I held her hand in the ambulance and tried to comfort her by acting normal and even making a silly joke about the traffic on Putney High Street as we raced past it. What really stays with me from that journey is the shock in my aunt's eyes as she looked at me.
At the hospital the doctors managed to stabilise her blood pressure and a recovery was expected. We were to return in the morning. The final expression I saw from my aunt was a wonderful surprised smile as my one year old son made his first full sentence and said, “Bye-bye Afi”. Less than an hour after we had left, a second, more severe stroke sent Afsaneh into a coma.
On August 13, 2013, Afsaneh's heart stopped. She was fifty-six years of age. As we were leaving the hospital my father and I were handed a plastic bag that contained Afsaneh's personal belongings.
Six months on, I made the decision to photograph the contents of the bag, placing the objects onto the bed linen she had been sleeping on. This series is my document of Afsaneh's final day.