At the pinnacle of their careers, renowned musician and legendary actress Goldie Hawn met in 1975.
On a first-class flight from New York to Los Angeles, the two happened to cross paths, and they clicked right away.
The musician was already well-known in the music industry, having shared stages with The Beach Boys, The Osmonds, and The Monkees. He was a member of The Hudson Brothers. Apart from his musical career, he had appearances in TV series and movies, including the cult favorite Hysterical.
The musician recalled their first meeting and said there was instant electricity. The allure was immediate. That evening, I asked her to supper, and that was it,” he revealed. Their physical bond was a major factor in their relationship’s rapid growth.
The level of intimacy was astounding. The [intimacy] was always fantastic, even when everything else in the relationship went south,” he continued, as reported by the Daily Mail. Even while their relationship was not without its ups and downs, there were times when it felt like they were moving forward.
In 1976, while Goldie was expecting their first child, a son, the couple were married. But there were some difficulties during the delivery of their baby. He was diagnosed with meconium aspiration, a potentially fatal illness where a baby inhales meconium-contaminated amniotic fluid, at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles.
UNITED STATES – NOVEMBER 20: BOTTOMLINE Photo of Bill HUDSON, w/ Goldie Hawn (Photo by Richard E. Aaron/Redferns)
The couple was greatly concerned when the newborn was placed in isolation for three days following delivery. “Goldie and I were ecstatic,” the performer recalled. “She was really sick, and I’d go from her bedside to the neonatal intensive care unit,” he added in his explanation. It was the physicians’ opinion that [son’s name] would not survive. However, he survived, and from that point on, he became our priceless miracle.
The couple welcomed a girl as their second child in 1979, three years after the first. The foursome shared a number of wonderful years together before the musician’s discovery that Goldie had been unfaithful in 1981 brought an untimely end to their marriage. The musician’s longing for a conventional marriage ran counter to Goldie’s beliefs of commitment.
He told the Daily Mail, “Goldie was having affairs, and pretty much on our wedding night, she told me that she wanted an open marriage, that she couldn’t imagine being faithful to one man for the rest of her life.” “I desired a conventional union, but Goldie was unsatisfactory. I eventually relocated.
In 1983, following their breakup, Goldie started dating actor Kurt Russell. They had first connected on set of Swing Shift, but their love life didn’t take off until they reunited after meeting again while filming The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band in 1968. Three years into their relationship, in 1986, Wyatt Russell, their son, was born.
Bringing their families together turned out to be a big adjustment. “For me, it felt like such a big moment because it was like, ‘My mom is madly in love with this guy,’” Goldie’s daughter recounted. “And I was meeting his son [Boston], so I thought, ‘Does this mean that this is my brother?’” she continued. For someone so young, it was a lot to handle.
Following their parents’ divorce, Goldie’s children from her first marriage experienced sentiments of abandonment. Her son told her about the way their biological father gradually cut himself off from them. In response to a contentious Father’s Day post honoring Kurt, he stated, “It really doesn’t matter which one of these men is my father.” I became the man I am now when my father intervened when I was six years old.
Kurt assuming the position of father figure is a memory that both siblings cherish. Even though they still don’t get along with their real father Bill, they frequently thank Kurt for his commitment.
Bill, meanwhile, has publicly expressed his sense of betrayal and charged Goldie with “poisoning” their kids against him. According to Hello!, despite their tension, Kate and Oliver are committed to moving past their past and keeping a good attitude on the future.
Oliver made the public knowledge of their tense relationship in 2015 when he shared a contentious Father’s Day message on social media. He posted a photo of Kate, Bill, and himself from the past with the message, “Happy abandonment day… @katehudson.”
“Oliver could have picked up the phone and called me, but he hasn’t,” said Bill, who was incensed by the post, in an interview. He obviously planned this out; he released the image on Father’s Day, knowing full well that it would hurt the most people.
Bill continued by asserting that Oliver had been successful in his attempt to remove him from their life. Tension increased when Kate wrote her own homage to Kurt, following Oliver’s example and only serving to exacerbate the fallout.
During her appearance on Howard Stern’s show, Kate talked about how Kurt was the father that was there for her through the trying and trying times. “I would ask them to stop using the Hudson name [because] they are no longer a part of my life,” Bill responded, as reported by the Daily Mail.
He went on to say, “I now consider Oliver and Kate to be dead; their Instagram post was a wicked, brutal, and deliberate attack. Even though they are still alive, I am grieving for their loss. After that, Bill made the decision, per the Daily Mail article, to get rid of all of Kate and Oliver’s childhood items from his house.
Kurt has accepted his duty as a grandfather to Kate and Oliver’s children despite the distance between him and his older children.
Kate and Oliver have moved on and chosen to concentrate on the relationships they have developed with their stepfather, Kurt, but Bill still harbors animosity.
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My 81-year-old grandma started posting selfies on Instagram with heavy filters.
The notification popped up on my phone, another Instagram post from Grandma Rose. I sighed, tapping on the icon. There she was, her face smoothed and airbrushed beyond recognition, a pair of oversized, cartoonish sunglasses perched on her nose. A cascade of digital sparkles rained down around her. The caption read, “Feeling my vibe! #OOTD #YOLO #GrandmaGoals.”
My stomach churned. At first, it had been a novelty, a quirky, endearing quirk of my 81-year-old grandmother. But now, weeks into her social media blitz, it was bordering on unbearable.
It had started innocently enough. She’d asked me to help her set up an Instagram account, intrigued by the photos I’d shown her of my travels and friends. I’d thought it was a sweet way for her to stay connected with the family, a digital scrapbook of sorts.
But Grandma Rose had taken to Instagram like a fish to water, or rather, like a teenager to a viral trend. She’d discovered the world of filters, the power of hashtags, and the allure of online validation. Suddenly, she was posting multiple times a day, each photo more heavily filtered than the last.
The captions were a whole other level of cringe. She’d pepper them with slang I barely understood, phrases like “slay,” “lit,” and “no cap.” She’d even started using emojis, a barrage of hearts, stars, and laughing faces that seemed to clash with her gentle, grandmotherly image.
The pinnacle of my mortification came when she asked me, with wide, earnest eyes, how to do a “get ready with me” video. “You know, darling,” she’d said, her voice brimming with excitement, “like those lovely young ladies on the internet. I want to show everyone my makeup routine!”
I’d choked on my coffee. My makeup routine consisted of moisturizer and a swipe of mascara. Grandma Rose’s “makeup routine” involved a dusting of powder and a dab of lipstick.
The worst part was, my entire family was egging her on. They’d shower her with likes and comments, calling her “amazing,” “inspiring,” and “a social media queen.” They were completely oblivious to my growing dread.
I was trapped in a vortex of secondhand embarrassment. What if my friends saw these posts? What if my coworkers stumbled upon her profile? I could already imagine the whispers, the snickers, the awkward attempts at polite conversation.
I found myself avoiding family gatherings, dreading the inevitable discussions about Grandma Rose’s latest post. I’d scroll through my feed, wincing at each new notification, my finger hovering over the “unfollow” button, a button I couldn’t bring myself to press.
One evening, I found myself sitting across from my mom, the glow of her phone illuminating her face as she scrolled through Grandma Rose’s profile. “Isn’t she just the cutest?” she gushed, showing me a photo of Grandma Rose with a digital halo and angel wings.
“Mom,” I said, my voice strained, “don’t you think this is… a little much?”
My mom looked at me, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? She’s having fun. She’s expressing herself.”
“But it’s not her,” I argued. “It’s like she’s trying to be someone else.”
“She’s adapting, darling,” my mom said, her voice gentle. “She’s embracing technology. She’s living her best life.”
I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument. My family, in their well-meaning attempt to support Grandma Rose, were completely blind to the awkwardness of the situation.
I decided to try a different approach. The next time Grandma Rose asked me for help with her Instagram, I sat down with her and gently explained the concept of “authenticity.” I showed her photos of herself, unfiltered and unedited, her smile genuine, her eyes sparkling with wisdom.
“You’re beautiful just the way you are, Grandma,” I said, my voice sincere. “You don’t need filters or slang to be amazing.”
She looked at the photos, her eyes softening. “Do you really think so, darling?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Absolutely,” I said, squeezing her hand.
Grandma Rose didn’t stop posting, but she did tone it down. The filters became less intense, the captions more genuine. She even started sharing stories from her life, anecdotes that were both heartwarming and hilarious.
And slowly, I began to appreciate her online presence. I realized that it wasn’t about trying to be an influencer; it was about Grandma Rose finding her own way to connect with the world, to express her joy, to simply be herself. And in the end, that was more than enough.
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