A Privilege Unlike Anything Else: Portraits of Nurses
In 2008 my first wife, Jennifer, was diagnosed with breast cancer. We had been married for five months and Jen passed less than four years later at the age of 40.
My Dad’s Chair
My parents bought this chair and a matching couch not long after they were married in 1951. This was my dad’s chair. If you were sitting in it when he walked into the room he gave you the friendly thumb twist, which simply meant: get up.
Photographer Captures Heartwarming Photos of His Parents Waving Goodbye at the Door
For as long as photographer Angelo Merendino can remember, leaving his parents' house involved a heartfelt goodbye at the door.
"There was never an, 'I'll just let myself out,'" he writes. "It was always, 'We'll walk you to the door.'" At some point he realized this goodbye wasn't always a given, and decided to capture it in photos for the remaining years he had with his 80+ year old parents.
The Battle We Didn’t Choose: Capturing My Wife’s Fight With Breast Cancer
Warning: This article contains powerful and emotional content that may be difficult to view
I knew the first minute I saw Jennifer that she was the one. Jen was beautiful and the kind of person that everyone wants in their life: she listened, and when you talked with her you felt like you were the only person who mattered.
A few months later I finally worked up the courage to ask Jen out, telling her, "I have a crush on you." At the time Jen was living in New York and I was in Cleveland. We talked on the phone for hours and wanted to know everything about each other; after 6 months of long distance dating I moved to New York.