My parents after assisted death, still holding hands: Martin Roemers' most personal photograph

They were both sick and tired… They didn’t want to go to the nursing home and neither wanted to be left alive without the other – they wanted to leave life, together…

Journalist Charlotte Jansen, in conversation with photographer Martin Roemers / The Guardian
Translation: Telegrafi.com

This is a photo of my parents, shortly after their deaths in Assen, Netherlands, on May 1, 2024. My father, Klaas Roemers, was 90 years old, while my mother, Fenny Roemers-Visser, was 86 years old.

They had a good life and a very happy marriage, but the last few years were difficult. They were both sick and tired. They both suffered from heart problems and my mother was in a lot of pain. They were both in very bad physical condition. They still lived in their own home, but life was becoming increasingly difficult, even with help. They didn’t want to go to a nursing home and neither wanted to be left alone – they wanted to leave this life together. They were afraid that one would die naturally and the other would be left alone. They were very close, and they did everything together, really everything – so it made sense that they would leave this life together.

In the Netherlands, where assisted dying is legal, it is possible if you have a very strong reason. My mother always said: “We will stay with you as long as we can, until we see no other way.” Doctors have to be convinced that the patient is suffering unbearably and there is no hope of improvement. My parents were independently assessed by different doctors and both received approval.

It's a very long process, but once the decision is made, everything happens quickly. They picked a date, and it was only a week later – much sooner than I had thought. My father wanted to go out for dinner somewhere, and on the last night before he died, we managed to do just that. My father was a very optimistic and carefree man who always laughed at our jokes, right up until the very end. It was obvious that he was enjoying dinner that night – and that was a good thing.

My parents were very involved in my work and came to the opening of exhibitions. This is an atypical photograph for me; I usually work on the border between documentary and art, photographing changes in society. My current project, Homo Mobilis, deals with the complex relationship between man and vehicle – I analyze how mobility shapes our identities and societies. My parents were eagerly awaiting the exhibition and book of this project. Unfortunately, they will not be able to see it. The presentation is at the end of this year.

A few days before their deaths, I told them that I was thinking of doing a posthumous portrait of them and that I would perhaps show it publicly, and I asked them what they thought about it. They immediately replied: “Yes, you should do it.” At first I didn't know what to do with it, because it's a very personal and private photo. This is the first time I've published it.

In the Netherlands we are very liberal about assisted dying, but in countries where things are not like that, I thought a picture like this could be helpful in showing what it means and contributing to the debate. When I show it to friends, they usually react by saying it's beautiful. I understand that, but I don't see any beauty in it. For me it represents loss. But I understand that reaction – maybe if it weren't for my parents, I would see it that way too.

It was a very sad event, but when someone no longer wants to live, I believe they should have the opportunity to do so. My brother and I had the same feeling – we understood their decision, we respected it and accepted it. We didn't try to stop them or delay the decision. From that moment on, we tried to do everything as calmly as possible for them. I was with them as often as I could, and what was most important: I was able to tell them everything I wanted to tell them.

“Double euthanasia” is very rare. My brother, my wife and I were present in the room when it happened – our parents wanted us to be there. All the family photos were around them on the bed, at the request of their mother. They lay there, holding hands. The doctors first gave them an injection to put them to sleep, and then the final injection. It is very strange and sad to see your parents lying like that.

I took a few pictures. In a strange way, I acted like a professional at that moment: I composed them, checked the lighting, and so on. When I was done, I stood there for a while, watched them, kissed each of them on the forehead, and left the room.

They died as they lived – holding hands.

Martin Roemers: CV

Country and year of birth: Oldehove, Netherlands, 1962

Training: AKI, Academy of Fine Arts, Enschede, Netherlands

Impacts: “Years ago, I was walking through Mumbai and enjoying the chaos and hustle and bustle of that city – thousands of people who seemed unfazed by the noise, the fumes and the lack of personal space. I wondered how I could capture all this energy and chaos in a single photograph. This was my first inspiration for Metropolis"in, my project for the megacities of the world. I can also be inspired by a conversation with someone, a book or a photograph. My favorite photographer is August Sander, who at the beginning of the 20th century created a comprehensive photographic document of the German people."

Highlight: "To have my works included in museum and institutional collections around the world. I am very excited to be launching my new book later this year." Homo Mobilis", on the symbiotic relationship between individuals and their means of transportation."

Weak point: "I was a photography student when the Berlin Wall fell. I should have dropped everything and moved to Berlin, but I didn't because of my part-time job. Even though I made up for it later, it still bothers me."

Top tips: "I see so many young photographers working on projects about their personal identity. We live in an extraordinary time – see the world around you. Experiment and stay true to your ideas." /Telegraph/