Like many others, he developed “combat fatigue” as PTSD was then called, and I grew up in the shadow of his considerable struggles. I left home as soon as I could at 18, and he passed away just eight years later, at the young age of 56. We never got the chance to complete our father/daughter story, something I regret. A regret so palpable that it never resolved even despite the many years since his passing.

Now, with decades of distance, I have opened a figurative “box” of memories and family stories about my father and unearthed a trove of his photographs and war documents that have allowed me to get to know who he really was.

In this photobook, a nail in his shoe, I incorporate his photographs of life as a soldier with images I created in response to his story as I discovered it. It was as if my creations brought me closer to him. Using mercury glass and reflections of his portrait helped me feel his trauma. A pair of very worn army boots used by American soldiers during World War II secured from the internet gave life to his poem — it was as if he was in my backyard when I made images of them. Wanting to stay faithful to my father’s story, I utilized warm tones, and chose paper and typeface consistent with the times.

This process has enabled me to explore and reassess our relationship and come to terms with his struggles and my early flight from home. More broadly, my journey has allowed me to better appreciate the impact of the many ongoing conflicts in the world today. Those fighting face trauma much like my father, and who experience difficulties once they return home to their families. It is a social issue the world must be ready for.