Growing up my brother Dennis’ behavior confused me. He was different. I didn’t understand him. Asking my mother about him only confused matters. She explained his child birth in an incomplete manor. Her explanation made no sense. Something had happened in child birth to Dennis, but I didn’t know what. I felt it was a taboo subject surrounded around guilt and shame. That is where it was left until after my dad’s death. I was submitting photographs to the Sun magazine, an article called “Mothers and Sons”. While writing text to the photographs the question came up again, what happened to Dennis in child birth. My mom answered, her doctor was not available when Dennis was about to be born. Consequently, the nurse anesthetized my mother until the doctor arrived, some 20 minutes later. Dennis’ birth was held back. This in turn led to a lack of oxygen to my brother’s brain, which caused brain damage. This was the first time I heard the story with clarity. Dennis still fascinates me. His awareness, sensitivity and feelings for the world is so different from mine. He is my teacher and is probably the prime reason I photograph my family.