As a child and even more so as a teen I never got along with my father. He was born in Dominican Republic where the culture was quite the opposite. However in the mid 80’s he immigrated to New York City with my mother. As a young couple, they struggled to grow and make a living, but persevered. It wasn’t till I began photographing him where I noticed that we simply had a cultural disconnect, a disparity that became more evident the more I photographed him. Through his illness, he has become a difficult subject to photograph as he provokes a reflection of myself; my mortality.