When I heard this morning that Debbie Reynold’s died, just one day after her beloved — and (self-described as) difficult — daughter, Carrie Fisher, I said to Bubba “Damn! I bet Carrie’s waiting to greet her mother, thinking “she couldn’t even let me have THIS moment??!!!” Bubba laughed and replied “no doubt. Debbie’s like ‘I know you just died yesterday and all, but this is how it’s all about me’”.
Carrie Fisher had a gloriously acerbic sense of humor and a highly-refined talent for finding humor in darkness. I, like millions of other adoring fans, appreciate her willingness to confront how beautifully messy life can be, with unflinching honesty and heart.
If you’ve read Carrie Fisher’s “Postcards from the Edge,” you know that Carrie found her mother challenging, competitive, frustrating, exhausting, emotionally needy, and completely self-absorbed. She also loved her very much. Carrie perfectly illustrated the complicated relationship women have with their mothers, especially when the mother in question is not exactly June Cleaver. And the daughter has more in common with Wednesday Addams than Gidget!
Carrie forged an authentic identity for herself, one NOT defined by her mother; she also understood (and eventually accepted) that Debbie Reynolds influenced her in many deeply intimate, and mostly positive, ways. Like many other strong, talented, and brilliantly funny women I admire, Carrie mined her personal experiences to fuel her creativity and her healing. Carrie Fisher was my first “self-rescuing princess”; Carrie Fisher showed me that healing through humor — and acceptance of one’s true self — was possible.
There are days — much fewer now that I’m 46, then when I was 26 — when my inner critic joyfully points out my every flaw and failure. My fear of the imperfect has limited me in the past, but not anymore. Carrie Fisher’s body of work — and her life — gives me hope. Hope that I will continue to grow beyond the confines of the persona my mother encouraged me to assume, and embrace my authentic, and thoroughly flawed, self!
This Spazzie Girl thanks you, Carrie.