Fame makes a huge difference if you’re trying to get a table in a trendy restaurant, but it isn’t of much use when a loved one dies. A recent story about Mel Brooks, written by his son, details the son’s experiences as a caregiver following the death of his mother, Brooks’ wife of 44 years. The story offers a snapshot of the family caregiver at work, but it is also about grief and loss and the limits of fame
Brooks’ fame is of no use to him in his grief. In this story, he is simply a bereaved man of 79 with a terrible burden of grief to bear. Nothing about the story is funny, and not even Mel Brooks can find a laugh line in it anywhere.
In reading the story, however, I found myself wondering if we as readers would be comfortable invading Brooks’ privacy so profoundly if he weren’t a celebrity. Perhaps the difference that fame makes in a situation like this is that the caregiver has to work in the glaring light of public curiosity. Surely that doesn’t make the job easier.
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