My mom died of cancer a few days before Christmas. In the six months between when she was diagnosed and when she died I tried to photograph her struggles and decline (mainly as something to do in all the craziness). The final project was small: 10 photos and a short essay on her problematic role as a parent. I didn't expect the reception it got. Some people were moved, others hated it. I permanently lost contact with one of my siblings. I still think it was the right thing to publish. As complicated a relationship I had with her, her end of life and death were worth chronicling.