When my 91-year-old mother, Elia, moved in with me, I thought I was doing her a service.
当我九十一岁的妈妈艾莉亚搬来跟我一起住时，我认为我是在服务她。
In fact, it was the other way around.
事实却正好相反。
You see, Mom was having issues with memory loss and accepting her age. She looked defeated.
我妈妈有失忆的问题，而且她无法接受她的年纪。她看起来很挫折。
I tried to make her as comfortable as possible,
我尽可能让她舒服些，
but when I was at my easel, painting, I would peek over and see her just ... there.
但当我在画架前画画时，我会偷瞄，看到她就在“那里”。
She'd be staring at nothing in particular.
她并没有真的在看什么。
I'd watch her slowly climb the stairs, and she wasn't the mom I grew up with.
我会看着她慢慢地爬上楼梯，那不是我成长过程中的那个妈妈。
I saw, instead, a frail, tiny, old woman.
取而代之，我看到的是一个虚弱、瘦小的老妇人。
A few weeks went by, and I needed a break from my painting.
几周过去了，我作画也需要休息一下。
I wanted to play with the new camera I had just bought.
我想要玩玩我刚买的相机。
I was excited -- it had all sorts of dials, buttons and settings I wanted to learn,
我很兴奋--它有各式各样的控制器、按钮、设定，我想好好学一下，
so I set up my tripod facing this large mirror, blocking the doorway to the only bathroom in the house.
我把我的三脚架设定好，面向这面大镜子，挡住了整间房子中通往浴室的唯一通道。
After a while, I hear, "I need to use the washroom."
不久后，我听到：“我要上厕所。”
"Five minutes, Mom. I need to do this." 15 minutes later, and I hear, again, "I need to use the washroom."
“五分钟就好，妈。我得把这弄好。”十五分钟后，我再次听到：“我要上厕所。”
"Five more minutes." Then this happened.
“再五分钟。”接着就变成这样。
And this. And then, this. I had my "aha!" moment.
还有这样。接着，这样。我有了“啊哈！”的一刻。
We connected. We had something tangible we could do together.
我们连接了。有了件很实在的事情，是我们可以一起做的。
My mom was born in a small mountain village in central Italy, where her parents had land and sheep.
我妈妈是在意大利中部山区的小村落中出生的，她的父母在那里拥有土地和羊群。
At a young age, her father died of pneumonia, leaving his wife and two daughters alone with all the heavy chores.
她很小的时候，她的爸爸就因为肺炎过世，把他的农庄杂务留给他的妻子和两个女儿。
They found that they couldn't cope. So a very hard decision was made.
她们发现她们实在承受不了。所以做了一个很艰难的决策。
Mom, the oldest, at 13, was married off to a complete stranger twice her age.
我妈是长女，十三岁，出嫁给年龄是她两倍的陌生人。
She went from being just a kid and was pushed into adulthood. Mom had her first child when she was only 16.
她本来只是个孩子，被迫长大为成人。她才十六岁时就有了第一个孩子。
Years later, and now living in Toronto,
数年后一直到现在，妈妈都住在多伦多，
Mom got work in a clothing factory and soon became manager of a very large sewing department.
在一间衣服工厂工作，很快就在一个非常大的缝纫部门当上主管。
And because it was full of immigrant workers, Mom taught herself words from translation books.
因为很多任务人都是移民者，妈妈通过翻译书来自学字词。
She then practiced them in French, Greek, Spanish, Portuguese, Danish, Polish, Russian, Romanian, Hungarian, all around the house.
接着，她在家里到处练习，用法语、希腊语、西班牙语、葡萄牙语、丹麦语、波兰语、俄语、罗马尼亚语、匈牙利语。
I was in awe of her focus and determination to succeed at whatever she loved to do.
我好敬畏她对于自己热爱的事所投入的专注和成功的决心。
After that bathroom "aha!" moment, I practiced my newfound camera skills with Mom as portrait model.
在浴室的“啊哈！”时刻之后，我让我妈妈当模特儿，来练习我新发现的相机技巧。
Through all of this, she talked, and I listened.
在这个过程中，她说，我听。
She'd tell me about her early childhood and how she was feeling now.
她跟我说她孩童时期的事，以及她现在的感受。
We had each other's attention. Mom was losing her short-term memory, but was better recalling her younger years.
我们拥有彼此的注意力。妈妈失去的是她的短期记忆，但她较会回忆起她更早些的时期。
I'd ask, and she would tell me stories. I listened, and I was her audience. I got ideas.
只要我问，她就会跟我说故事。我会倾听，我是她的听众。我有想法产生。
I wrote them down, and I sketched them out.
我会把想法写下来，再把它们画出来。
I showed her what to do by acting out the scenarios myself. We would then stage them.
我会亲自把情境给演出来，用这种方式告诉她该做什么。接着我们就会开始上演。
So she posed, and I learned more about photography. Mom loved the process, the acting.
她会摆姿势，而我会学到更多摄影。妈妈很爱这个过程，演戏的部分。
She felt worthy again, she felt wanted and needed. And she certainly wasn't camera-shy.
她再次感到自己有价值，有人想要她、需要她。她在镜头前一点也不害羞。
Mom laughed hysterically at this one.
拍这张时，妈妈笑到歇斯底里。
The idea for this image came from an old German film I'd seen, about a submarine, called "Das Boot."
这张影像的想法来自于我看过的一部德国老片，《从海底出击》，是部关于潜水艇的电影。
As you can see, what I got instead looked more like "E.T."
你们可以看到，我拍出的结果更像《外星人》的 E.T.。
So I put this image aside, thinking it was a total failure, because it didn't reach my particular vision.
我把这张影像放到一边去，认为它完全是失败之作，因为它没有达到我想象中的那个样子。
But Mom laughed so hard, I eventually, for fun, decided to post it online anyway.
但我妈妈笑得好用力，最终，为了好玩，我还是决定把它放上网。
It got an incredible amount of attention.
它得到了非常大量的关注。

Now, with any Alzheimer's, dementia, there's a certain amount of frustration and sadness for everyone involved.
不论是阿兹海默、失智症，任何相关的人都免不了会有一定的挫折感和感伤。
This is Mom's silent scream. Her words to me one day were,
这是妈妈的沉默尖叫。有一天，她对我说的是：
"Why is my head so full of things to say, but before they reach my mouth, I forget what they are?"
“为什么我的脑中满满都是我想要说的东西，但它们到我的嘴巴之前，我就已经把它们都忘了？”
"Why is my head so full of things to say, but before they reach my mouth, I forget what they are?"
“为什么我的脑中满满都是我想要说的东西，但它们到我的嘴巴之前，我就已经把它们都忘了？”
Now, as full-time care partner and full-time painter, I had my frustrations too.
身为全职的照护伙伴以及全职的画家，我也会有我的挫折感。
But to balance off all the difficulties, we played.
但我们会用玩乐来平衡所有这些难处。
That was Mom's happy place. And I needed her to be there, too.
那是我妈妈能感到快乐的地方。我也需要她在那里。
Now, Mom was also preoccupied with aging. She would say, "How did I get so old, so fast?"
妈妈会一直想着“变老”这件事。她会说：“我怎么会这么快就变得这么老？”
"So old." "So fast."
“这么老。”“这么快。”
I also got Mom to model for my oil paintings. This painting is called "The Dressmaker."
我也让妈妈当我油画的模特儿。这幅画叫做“裁缝师”。
I remember, as a kid, Mom sewing clothes for the whole family
我记得，我小时候，妈妈会为全家人缝衣服，
on this massive, heavy sewing machine that was bolted to the floor in the basement.
用的是一台又大又重的缝纫机，放在地下室，固定在地板上。
Many nights, I would go downstairs and bring my schoolwork with me.
许多晚上，我会带着我的学校作业下楼去。
I would sit behind her in this overstuffed chair.
我会坐在她身后一张垫得又软又厚的椅子上。
The low hum of the huge motor and the repetitive stitching sounds were comforting to me.
巨大马达的低沉嗡嗡声，以及不断重复的缝纫声，很能安抚我。
When Mom moved into my house, I saved this machine and stored it in my studio for safekeeping.
当妈妈搬到我家来时，我保存了这台机器，把它保存在我的工作室里。
This painting brought me back to my childhood.
这幅画把我带回了我的童年。
The interesting part was that it was now Mom, sitting behind me,
有趣的是，现在是我妈妈坐在我身后，
watching me paint her working on that very same machine she sewed at when I sat behind her, watching her sew, 50 years earlier.
看着我画她，我现在用的就是当年她用来缝纫的机器，只是当时是我坐在她身后，看着她缝纫，那是五十年前。
I also gave Mom a project to do, to keep her busy and thinking.
我也给了妈妈一个项目计划，让她能有事可以忙且持续思考。
I provided her with a small camera and asked her to take at least 10 pictures a day of anything she wanted.
我给了她一台小型相机，要她每天至少拍十张相片，拍任何她想拍的东西。
These are Mom's photographs. She's never held a camera in her life before this. She was 93.
这些是妈妈拍的照片。在这之前，她从来没有拿过相机。她九十三岁。
We would sit down together and talk about our work.
我们会一起坐下来，谈论我们的作品。
I would try to explain how and why I did them, the meaning, the feeling, why they were relevant.
我会试着解释我如何/为什么做这些作品，意义是什么、感觉是什么、这些有什么重要的。
Mom, on the other hand, would just bluntly say, "sì," "no," "bella" or "bruta."
另一方面，妈妈只会很直率地说：“是。”“不。”“美丽”或“畜牲”。
I watched her facial expressions. She always had the last say, with words or without.
我看着她的面部表情。任何事最后一定由她决定，不论是不是用言语表达。
This voyage of discovery hasn't ended with Mom.
妈妈的这项发现之旅并没有到此结束。
She is now in an assisted living residence, a 10-minute walk away from my home.
她现在住在一家辅助生活的疗养机构，离我家只要走路十分钟。
I visit her every other day. Her dementia had gotten to the point where it was unsafe for her to be in my house.
我每隔一天就去看她一次。她失智的状况已经到了住在我家对她来说并不安全的程度。
It has a lot of stairs. She doesn't know my name anymore.
我家有很多楼梯。她也叫不出我的名字了。
But you know what? That's OK. She still recognizes my face and always has a big smile when she sees me.
但你知道吗？那没关系。她仍然认得我的脸孔，当她看到我时，总会露出大大的微笑。
I don't take pictures of her anymore. That wouldn't be fair or ethical on my part.
我不再拍她的照片了。我这样做是不公平或不道德的。
And she wouldn't understand the reasons for doing them.
她不会了解做这些事的理由。
My father, my brother, my nephew, my partner and my best friend, all passed away suddenly.
我爸爸、我兄弟、我侄子、我的另一半和我最好的朋友，都突然间就过世了。
And I didn't have the chance to tell them how much I appreciated and loved them.
我没有机会告诉他们我有多感谢他们、爱他们。
With Mom, I need to be there and make it a very long goodbye.
对我妈妈，我得要在她身边，用很长的时间来说再见。
For me, it's about being present and really listening.
对我来说，重点是要陪在身边且能真正倾听。
Dependents want to feel a part of something, anything.
受抚养的家属会想要有参与某件事，任何事的感觉。
It doesn't need to be something exceptionally profound that's shared -- it could be as simple as walks together.
与他们分享的不见得要是特别了不起的事--像是一起散步这么简单的事也可以。
Give them a voice of interaction, participation, and a feeling of belonging. Make the time meaningful.
给他们发言权，让他们互动、参与，找到归属感。让时间有意义。
Life, it's about wanting to live and not waiting to die.
人生，重点是想要活着，而不是等待死亡。
Can I get a wave and a smile from everyone, please? This is for you, Mom.
能不能请大家对我挥挥手，微笑一个？这是给你的，妈妈。