I found myself really sad when Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds died. Not because of Carrie Fisher even though I love Star Wars and When Harry Met Sally and her writing and all of her other incarnations. And not because of Debbie Reynolds even though I love Singing in the Rain, etc.
I was sad because I miss my Mom. My Mom and I shared old Hollywood. And I remember the first time that she told me Carrie Fisher was Debbie Reynold's daughter. I loved watching old movies with her and her telling me a little back story here and there. We would have shared the horror of the two dying a day apart.
My father took us to a lot of movies as kids. The last official one I saw with my parents happened to be Star Wars at the RKO Keiths in Flushing, Queens. But he stopped going for many years after, and therefore so did my Mom. She didn't drive and wouldn't have gone on her own. So one day, when I was in college, I asked my Mom on a whim if she'd like to go see a movie and she immediately said yes. She didn't even ask what movie or name something she'd like to see.
So I took her over to Bay Terrace and we saw Metropolitan, a movie of pretentious rich Manhattan nineteen year olds sitting in a lot of apartments talking. The theater next door was showing Postcards from the Edge, featuring Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine in a thinly veiled old Hollywood story of Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds. I kept thinking, the one movie my Mom sees in all these years, and I chose Metropolitan? Instead of Postcards from the Edge?
She sat and watched quietly, and was lovely about it, the way she was always lovely.