Movie Star

 A few days ago was the fifth anniversary of my Mom's passing, which doesn't seem possible, both that is seems like yesterday and yet also feels longer. As is pretty well-documented, my son was Mimi's favorite person in the world, and not by a slim margin. I remember years ago Gary and I drove down to see my Mom for a visit. A couple days earlier I had shaved off my beard for the first time in something like seventeen years. We were there for around three hours when my Mom finally looked at me and said, "You look different today." The Boy was in the room and I existed only as a means of conveyance. I get it, as my both my grandmothers were that way with me. One time when Mom was in the hospital we came to visit her, and I'm thinking Gary was probably in high school. Mimi woke up, looked at the crowd around her, focused on my son, and said, "You look like a movie star." It became a foundational bit of Scudder mythology.

The other day we stopped by to do laundry, which may have just been an excuse to check up on his old man; he's reached that stage where he's far more worried about me than I am about him. At a certain point he had to run to the store, and I took advantage of his absence to switch over the loads and fold his clothes. When he came back his was very apologetic. I told him that it was a pleasure, and the dream of every parent of every adult child to somehow play a role in their lives, even if it's just folding laundry. Of course, I was sincere. It's why we fight to pay the check every time.

To be fair, he is awfully handsome - or at least a lot more handsome than this father.