Cancer family: Joined in illness
What began as a way to be closer with her parents and to cope with their illness grew into something much bigger. For two years, as Howie and Laurel Borowick fought stage IV cancer, side by side, photographer Nancy Borowick documented their close bond.
Her new book, "The Family Imprint: A Daughter's Portrait of Love and Loss" (published by Hatje Cantz), chronicles her parents' lives and deaths.
"I think I was so terrified of what the reality was that it was easier for me to focus on the photographs," Borowick told CBS News' Anthony Mason.
The result is a moving testament to a couple's unshakable love, and the strength of a family overcoming a painful loss.
By CBSNews.com senior producer David Morgan
"The Family Imprint"
Howie and Laurel Borowick's wedding in 1979. "Marrying Mom was easy," Howie said.
Both had studied law but, Laurel wrote, "The 'motherhood/family' thing just sort of happened organically; and it was the most difficult and fun things I have ever done!"
They had three children.
"The Family Imprint"
In 2012 Laurel was battling a recurrence of breast cancer when Howie was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Their daughter Nancy (a freelance photographer whose work has appeared in The New York Times) had documented her mother's cancer, and Howie asked her to document his.
Nancy's mother wrote: "When I agreed to be the subject of your photo assignment my intention was to be dependable and available. I knew I could be helpful, spend quality time with you and hopefully have the opportunity to do some nurturing.
"What I didn't know then but realize now, is that I would be the recipient of your help, quality time and nurturing.
"Your photo project has been a catalyst to permit, legitimize and push me to articulate what I usually keep buried.
"Thank you for helping me to speak from a place of strength and for providing this opportunity for me to see the beautiful images you create with a camera, using your heart as your guide. XOXO, Mom"
"The Family Imprint"
Laurel prepares for a brain scan, to find out if the tumors had shrunk after starting a new treatment.
"The Family Imprint"
"Dad called these 'his and hers chairs.' He would sit beside Mom, his partner and wife of thirty-four years, as they got their weekly chemotherapy treatments. He had just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and she was in treatment for breast cancer for the third time in her life. For him it was new and unknown, and for her it was business as usual, another appointment on her calendar." – Nancy
"The Family Imprint"
Howie began hanging romantic sticky-notes to Laurel around the house during her first cancer recurrence in 2011.
"The Family Imprint"
Howie and Laurel.
"The Family Imprint"
"When the doctor calls to give you news about your scan results, who takes such an important phone call in the bathroom? My parents did. As I waited for reactions and information, I saw Mom beginning to wipe tears from her eyes. It turned out to be good news for both of them - the tumors were shrinking. But what if one had good news and the other had bad news? Do you celebrate for yourself and mourn for the other?" – Nancy
"The Family Imprint"
"My philosophy on life is that it's a gift, and any amount of years is a gift. Nobody promised me longevity. Nobody promised me success. Nobody promised me love. Nobody promised me healthy kids. Nobody promised me good friends. Nobody promised me a great career, and yet, I've had all those. So, I'm way ahead in the balloting and accounting. …
"You have no guarantees, and what you get in your life is a bonus." – Howie Borowick
"The Family Imprint"
Parenting Advice notes:
"If some value is important to you and you want to share it with your son/daughter, don't just talk about it/preach it; live it. I think kids learn so much by watching their parents (vs. listening). [I've definitely made mistakes in this area.]"
"The Family Imprint"
One day as Nancy watched a nurse struggle to find a strong enough vein in her father's arm to insert an IV, she fainted. "The next thing I knew I was being escorted into a nearby room and laid onto a bed. …
"This was the first time I wasn't photographing the reality of what was happening in front of me. A few minutes later I heard a familiar giggle coming from down the hallway; suddenly, Mom popped out from around the corner and snapped this photograph while declaring: 'Oh, how the tables have turned!'"
"The Family Imprint"
Laurel embraces her husband in the ICU, in Greenwich, Conn., December 2013, after hearing news that the cancer had spread and there was little the doctors could do besides make him as comfortable as possible.
"The Family Imprint"
Because both of Howie's parents had died of cancer before he reached 15, he celebrated each birthday as if there would not be another, said Nancy. "Because of this, he prepared for his funeral, writing his eulogy to be read during his service. … He was a lawyer by trade and being a passionate and vocal advocate was a large part of his identity. This eulogy would be his final closing statement."
"I have lived fully, loved completely, and been loved by those that mattered most and have appreciated every blessed day more or less. Sometimes reckless, other times too close to the edge, but always gratefully. …
"Laurel, I will wait for you as long as t takes .. but by the way, for once, please don't rush. Take your time." – From Howie's eulogy
"The Family Imprint"
"Jewelry was never all that important to Mom. We decided that we wanted to talk to her about some of her pieces though, because we wanted to know if any of these had an unknown story, history, or association. She was excited to go down memory lane with us, showing earrings from our great-grandmother, and trying on old costume jewelry from her high-school days. We knew that once she was gone, the stories would go with her, and we wanted to hold on to whatever we could." – Nancy
"The Family Imprint"
Laurel Borowick in Chappaqua, N.Y., August 2014. Managing her pain, Laurel often did not have energy due to her fatigue and exhaustion also caused by medication. Her body temperature, also off, made her cold even in a very warm room under many blankets in the heat of summer.
"The Family Imprint"
"Mom rested on the couch while Grandma Marion, her mother, read to her from a book. It had been decades since Grandma truly played the role of mother to her daughter in this way. There was little she could do for her other than to read and stay close." – Nancy
"The Family Imprint"
Laurel died on December 6, 2014, exactly one day shy of the anniversary of her husband's death. Her son Matthew looks over the casket before it is removed from the hearse, in Elmont, N.Y.
"The Family Imprint"
Like clockwork, in anticipation of Shiva, a hanging rack showed up at the Borowick doorstep, for the many coats to hang as people arrived at the family's home.
"The Family Imprint"
"Following the end of Shiva, the seven-day mourning period in Jewish traditi0on, one is supposed to take a short walk around the block to symbolize their return to society. We leashed up the dogs and headed out in the cold New York air. We were lucky - we had each other and so many who supported and loved us, and we had out parents to thank for that." – Nancy
"The Family Imprint"
During the cleaning out of the house, a cherished memento was found: the cake topper from Howie and Laurel's wedding in 1979, a time when their lives were just beginning.
"It was surprisingly easy for me to say goodbye to my childhood home," Nancy wrote. "I'll admit I am a bit of a packrat, but it's because I am an extremely nostalgic person and I didn't think I was ready to let everything go. Once the house was empty, there were no signs of who had been there and the memories and experiences that had unfolded. It was no longer our home; it was just a house. My room was a blank slate and a new family would move in and create their own memories; perhaps have their own joy and sadness, just like we did."
"The Family Imprint"
For more info:
"The Family Imprint: A Daughter's Portrait of Love and Loss" by Nancy Borowick (Hatje Cantz)
Exhibition: The Family Imprint at the Anastasia Photo Gallery, 143 Ludlow Street, New York City (May 16-June 15, 2017)