My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease when she was 65. She has lived with the disease for over thirteen years.

In recent years, I took pictures of her surroundings. Of small things that stroke me, some by their absurdity, or of simple  every-day life that cheered me up or moved me.

The rooms in the photographs are her bedroom and the snooze- and reminiscing rooms at the nursing home. It is always seven ‘o clock and the furniture reminds me of my grandmother's old livingroom. It has a bubble machine, lights and sound effects; it is nice and quiet.  I enjoyed it more than my mother did. She slept a lot, still, every now and then, I got a smile. That made me happy.