In December 2016, my mom got ankle surgery. I went to Rhode Island for three weeks while she recovered, and we made a project out of it.

I was a baby photographer and had big plans for the pictures, but that wasn’t what they wanted to be. They were just a record of us, of how we were together.

My mom died suddenly in December, 2020. Initially, the coroner ruled it “inconclusive.” After a lifetime of surgeries, genuine trauma, and self-reclamation, she was just done.

The next month I went to her house with the same camera and same lenses, crouched in the same places, and recreated all of the photographs.

But without her in them.