A disco ball is busted on the floor. The lights outside are hitting it just enough that it twinkles. It's crazy because for a second I thought I was at Coachella. An emotional escape.

All of the community is currently experiencing grief. Death is a crazy thing. And dealing with death-good grief-is crazier. When a journalist asked me to capture it, I didn't even know how. When people go through it, it is impossible to grasp, because a lot of it only occurs in people's minds.

Last Friday I went to the Senior Center - a cooling center and open studio on the yard for aging women over 55. On my way to the studio, floods of flowers were coming my way: a splash of color you do not often see. Bouquets were passing me by, slowly but softly. I realized what was happening. Fluttering across the field were what women needed most: flowers. Taking a closer look, I realized they were not real flowers. They were fake. The flowers were made out of assorted cupcake wrappers. Vibrant and unique, they had a life of their own. There is a woman here is 78 years old and has been here for 57 years, since 1969. She was telling me what the flowers were made out of, as the women are preparing for Mother's Day. Many of these women are not only mothers, but they are grandmothers and great grandmothers. Can you imagine your grandma in prison?

As a twenty-something, I'm lying in bed wondering what is going on in their mind. When talking to staff today, she said she has a soft spot for the elderly women in prison because, "no one deserves to be forgotten about." She says sometimes society gets it backwards, that they think, "just because someone is grown, they do not need support." Everybody needs somebody. And from the words of Robyn Roberts, "everybody's got something."