Kneeling over my toilet with an acute case of food poisoning, I felt so sick and alone that I missed my mom.
That was two years ago. I was a grown man.
I told that story to my friend Ted Melfi, whose mom passed away yesterday, because he was close with her like I am with my mom.
The job of a parent is to reassure her child that he is safe. My mom stayed next to me when I was a little boy, sick in the middle of the night. Job well done.
Ted, who directed my featurette and then went on to gigantic things like Hidden Figures, had an abnormal upbringing. His dad was in organized crime, and for protection suddenly moved the family from Brooklyn to the middle of Missouri. Then he left Ted’s mom to raise three boys.
She put herself through nursing school at the age of 50 – a career that requires a huge heart – and did everything for her sons. She was a great mom.
And Ted is a true gentleman. He adopted his niece without hesitating for a second when her dad – Ted’s brother – suddenly passed away. Meanwhile, I don’t know any director who works as hard as Ted. He’s so thoughtful about getting a great performance out of his actors that after Hidden Figures won a SAG award for best cast, and the actors gathered on stage, Taraji P. Henson insisted Ted join them, saying he was the man who made that happen.
His mom raised that man. That’s her legacy.
