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, making a silly joke about the traffic on Putney High Street as we raced past it. I had never seen such fear in anyones eyes before.
At the hospital the doctors managed to stabilise her blood pressure and a recovery was predicted. We were to return in the morning. The final expression I saw from my aunt was a wonderful surprised smile as a one year old Faris made his first sentence and said, “Bye-bye Afi”. Less than an hour after we had left, a second, more severe stroke sent Afsaneh into a coma. I will always regret that she was left alone for her final moments.
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 Afsaneh's bed sheet. This series is my document of that final day.