Summary
My wife and I traveled to the Dominican Republic to participate in the remembrances for my father who passed away unexpectedly the year before. My stepmother was planning for a mass to be held in his name, and it would provide a time for each of us to be together as a family.
Just as I had 20 years before when I came to Monte Cristi for the first time as an adult, I had my camera in tow. I made photographs as a way to keep my mind busy because the loss of my father was still a palpable experience for me. As I wandered around the house and the streets of the small town where he grew up, I was constantly aware of him. Ironically, I found ...
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