The photographer filmed the life and death of his mother, who had never been kissed

The mother of photographer James Friedman, like most mothers, was for his son a mystery. She was a wonderful and difficult. She supported his passion for photography and became one of the first objects of photography, when Friedman was only nine years old. But she had a difficult relationship with his own mother, and she was neither expansive nor overly loving. Friedman doesn't remember that she ever kissed in childhood.

Dorothy Gilbert Friedman over 47 years of Smoking starting when she was 11 years old and continuing my whole life. Many of her photos made son, entered a project called "1 029 398 Cigarettes" — on the approximate number of cigarettes that she smoked until I got to the hospital and died from emphysema.

(14 photos)

Dorothy Friedman is not one of those who sits quietly, waiting for the shutter operates the camera. Says her son, she was shy of the lens. Nevertheless, she agreed to help him. Over time, she began to feel the shot more comfortable, and James learned more about the woman who raised him. "She generously gave me their time dressing in their gorgeous dresses and posing the way I asked for," says the photographer.

When Dorothy was ill, son visited her. In the last eight months of her life he came to mother every day either in a nursing home or in the hospital. As always, she allowed him to photograph them.

"The woman who didn't like to be photographed and which has always been well-groomed and tidy, allowed me to shoot it in the rough, sometimes unpleasant circumstances, despite medical procedures and pain, among which there is no place for flattery and vanity," — says the photographer.

Friedman never know why she agreed, but it seems that the mother did it for him and not for yourself. Despite the willingness to participate in the project, Dorothy never asked him to show her the pictures. "I think the photos taken during her final illness, was a farewell gift to me mother," says James.

But still these photographs, whether he wanted it or not, were a gift of the photographer to his dying mother. At the end of each visit to the hospital for the first time together, James and Dorothy Friedman Gilbert Friedman kissed each other goodbye. He took one of those kisses he kept the photo. A few hours after was taken this picture, Dorothy is not.