2024 BOB AND DIANE FUND GRANT

There is both love and pain contained in this story. The Crowley family's love for ”Nana” is visible, as well as their pain seeing her slowly fade. Photographer Jason Crowley does not shy from the effort to remain close to this “tough old bird” through his presence and photography. Photography here is both a shield, a path to intimacy and perhaps a way to make peace with that which is beyond our grasp.

Sarah Leen, Former Director of Photography, National Geographic Magazine

The photographer artfully blends personal perspective and documentary imagery to craft a sensitive story that depicts his relationship with his grandmother as well as addressing the challenges that caregivers face while taking care of a loved one with Alzheimers. 

Jared Soares, Freelance Photographer

A Tough Old Bird

By Jason Crowley

Growing up, I spent a lot of time at my grandma's house. My father is an alcoholic, and sometimes I couldn’t be at home so my mom would take me to stay with her instead. One time I had to stay for a while. She and my mom have a difficult relationship, but they are both protectors, and she sheltered me when I was vulnerable and scared. She kept living alone, until she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2019, at the age of 92.

At the time, I knew very little about the disease. The idea of traveling home to see her was overwhelming, but once I was with her, I felt at ease. We spent that time together taking pictures, and soon I started taking photos of both my mom and grandmother. Whenever I'm home I'm always with them. We call my grandmother “nana” My mom calls her “a tough old bird.”

I had taken many portraits of nana before, but I never felt like they were successful. I photographed her as a way to know her, but she is a hard shell to crack. Born into a poor Midwestern family during the depression, she was stubborn and closed off. As close as we are, she never really let me in. I always thought I'd have more time to figure out who she was, but she began to fade bit by bit.

For years, my mom drove to the neighboring town where she lived to bring her medication, make sure she’d eaten, and to spend time together. But it was only a matter of time before she was unable to live alone. My mom moved her out of her home of nearly 50 years and into a memory care facility. The responsibility of caring for the elderly often falls on daughters. I didn't want my mom to be solely responsible for this burden, which was made heavier by their difficult relationship. I started going home as often as possible, skipping work and shirking other responsibilities.

Watching her suffer has been incredibly painful, but also surprisingly revealing. She wanted to be a tennis player. She still misses my grandfather who died 25 years ago. She told me she was never kind enough to my mom, that she doesn’t like this new place and the people who live here. Nana just turned 97. I don’t think I’ll ever really know her the way I want to, but I’m getting closer.

This work is almost finished, but having to take time away from my job as a freelance photographer makes it difficult to continue. This grant would offset the cost of film, editorial submissions, and help me begin work towards publishing this body of work as a photobook. My dream for this work is to highlight the extraordinary hardship of caring for elderly patients with neurodegenerative disorders, and how those disorders change familial relationships in unexpected ways.