Meryl Streep is one of the most famous actresses in Hollywood. She’s had a long career and has been amazing in many movies.
In her personal life, Streep is also a dedicated mom to her kids. Now that her children are grown up, you might be surprised when you see how much her oldest daughter looks like her.
Meryl Streep is known for her acting but keeps her personal life private. She started gaining fame in Hollywood in the 1970s. During that time, she was in a relationship with John Cazale, whom she met while doing theater.
When they met, Streep was 27 and Cazale was 41. He was well-known in acting circles and was friends with stars like Al Pacino, who admired him.
Streep and Cazale fell in love when they worked together on Shakespeare’s play “Measure for Measure.” They moved in together in Cazale’s loft in Tribeca and enjoyed a few happy years while both pursued their careers in entertainment.
Sadly, everything changed in May 1977. Cazale became very ill and had to see a doctor urgently. He was diagnosed with lung cancer, which had already spread to other parts of his body. The doctors said his condition was very serious.
After John Cazale got very sick, Meryl Streep trusted only a few people with the news. Al Pacino was one of them and even took him to some of his doctor visits. In March 1978, Cazale had to go to the hospital and passed away shortly after. Streep stayed with him the whole time.
When Streep told Cazale’s brother about what happened, he asked her to leave Cazale’s apartment right away. Streep didn’t have anywhere to go, so she called her brother Harry for help. He connected her with his friend Don Gummer, who was in Pakistan at that time. Gummer let Streep stay in his apartment, and they started writing letters to each other. Eventually, they fell in love and decided to be together.
Meryl Streep and Don Gummer got married in 1978. They’ve had a happy marriage for over 44 years, which is rare in Hollywood. Gummer is a sculptor, and he’s proud to support his talented wife.
Meryl Streep and Don Gummer have four children together. Their oldest is their son, Henry Wolfe Gummer, born in 1979. He’s an actor and musician who is married to Tamryn Gummer, and they have two kids.
Their second child and oldest daughter is Mamie Gummer, born in 1983. She started acting when she was very young and appeared in her mom’s movie “Heartburn” in 1986. Later, she had a small part in her mom’s famous movie “The Devil Wears Prada.”
Following her mother’s path, Mamie Gummer is now an actress. She has been on TV shows like “The Good Wife,” “Emily Owens, M.D.,” and “Elementary.” Many say she looks just like her mother.
Meryl Streep’s third child is her daughter Grace Jane Gummer, born in 1986. Like her famous mom and older sister, she’s also an actress. Grace has performed on Broadway and won a Theatre World Award for her first Broadway show.
She has been on several TV shows like “The Newsroom” and “American Horror Story: Freak Show.” In 2021, she married Mark Ronson, the DJ known for his hit song “Uptown Funk.” Recently, they shared they’re expecting their first child.
Meryl Streep’s youngest child is Louisa Jacobson Gummer, born in 1991. She’s 31 years old and an actress too. After doing theater for a bit, she starred in the show “The Gilded Age” with Christine Baranski and Cynthia Nixon.
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Meryl Streep’s four children have all pursued careers in entertainment, just like their famous mother.
It’s wonderful to hear about Meryl Streep’s children and their accomplishments. Share this article with other fans of the actress so they can discover more about her family life!
My Demanding Neighbor Complained to the HOA About My Halloween Decorations – The Following Day, She Was Pleading for Assistance on My Doorstep
My neighbor reported me to the HOA over some plastic skeletons and cobwebs I put up for Halloween. Less than a day later, she was at my door, begging for help. Why the sudden change of heart? Well, you’ll soon find out!
At 73, I’ve seen my fair share of life’s little dramas. But let me tell you, nothing quite prepared me for the Halloween hullabaloo in our sleepy little neighborhood last year.
I’m Wendy, a retired schoolteacher, proud grandma, and apparently, public enemy number one, according to my neighbor, Irene. All because of a few plastic tombstones and some cotton cobwebs.
“Wendy! Wendy!” I heard Irene’s shrill voice cutting through the crisp October air. I was on my knees, arranging a plastic skeleton by my front porch. “What in heaven’s name are you doing?”
I looked up, shielding my eyes from the afternoon sun. There she was, all five-foot-two, hands on hips, looking like she’d just bitten into a lemon.
“Why? I’m decorating for Halloween, Irene. Same as I’ve done for the past 30 years.”
“But it’s so…” She waved her hands around, searching for the right word. “GARISH!”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s Halloween, Irene. It’s supposed to be a little garish.”
“Well, I don’t like it. It’s bringing down the tone of the neighborhood.”
As she stomped away, I sighed. Welcome to Whisperwood Lane, where the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence unless it’s half an inch too long, of course.
“You know, Irene,” I called after her, “a little fun never hurt anyone. Maybe you should try it sometime!”
She turned, her face seething with shock and anger. “I’ll have you know, Wendy, that I know plenty about fun. I just prefer it to be tasteful.”
With that, she marched off, leaving me to wonder what her idea of “tasteful fun” might be. Competitive flower arranging, perhaps?
A week later, I was enjoying my morning coffee when I gazed at the mailbox. Among the usual bills and flyers was an official-looking envelope from the Homeowners Association.
My hands slightly shook as I opened it. “Dear Miss Wendy,” it read, “We regret to inform you that a complaint has been filed regarding your Halloween decorations…”
I didn’t need to read further. I knew exactly who was behind this.
I looked at the HOA letter again. Irene had no idea what real problems looked like.
I picked up the phone and dialed the HOA office. “Hello, this is Wendy. I’ve just received a letter about my Halloween decorations, and I’d like to discuss it.”
The receptionist’s voice was polite. “I’m sorry, Miss Wendy, but the board has already made its decision. The decorations must come down within 48 hours because your neighbor has a problem with it.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I’m afraid we’ll have to issue a fine.”
I thanked her and hung up, my mind boiling. I had bigger things to worry about than fake tombstones and plastic skeletons. But something in me just couldn’t let Irene win this one.
The next few hours were a blur of phone calls and preparations. I was so focused on my Halloween decorations that I barely noticed Irene’s smug looks every time she passed by my house.
It wasn’t until the next morning that things came to a head. I was sitting on my porch, trying to calm my nerves with a cup of chamomile tea, when I heard excited laughter coming from Irene’s yard.
To my surprise, I saw a young boy, probably 10 years old, running around with one of my carved pumpkins on his head. It took me a moment to recognize him as Irene’s grandson, Willie.
“Look, Grandma!” he shouted, his voice muffled by the pumpkin. “I’m the Headless Horseman!”
I couldn’t help but smile. At least someone was enjoying my decorations.
Then I heard Irene’s voice, sharp and angry. “William! You take that thing off right this instant!”
Willie stopped in his tracks. “But Grandma, it’s fun! Miss Wendy’s yard is the coolest on the whole street!”
I leaned forward, curious to see how this would play out. Irene’s face was turning an interesting shade of red.
“That’s… that’s not the point,” she sputtered. “We don’t need any of those tacky decorations. Now, give me that pumpkin!”
But Willie wasn’t giving up so easily. “Why can’t we have fun stuff like Miss Wendy? Our yard is so boring and ugly!”
I almost felt bad for Irene. Almost.
“William,” Irene’s voice softened slightly, “you don’t understand. These decorations aren’t appropriate for our neighborhood. We have standards to maintain.”
The boy’s shoulders slumped. “Standards are no fun, Grandma. I wish we could be more like Miss Wendy.”
As the boy trudged back to the house, pumpkin in hand, I couldn’t help but call out, “You’re welcome to come carve pumpkins with me anytime, Willie!”
Irene shot me a glare that could have curdled milk, but I just waved cheerily. Let her stew in her bitterness. I had a Halloween to prepare for and a family to celebrate with.
As the sun started to set, I was surprised to see Irene making her way up my driveway. She looked different. Smaller somehow, less sure of herself.
“Wendy?” she called out hesitantly. “Can we talk?”
I nodded, gesturing to the chair next to me. “Have a seat, Irene. Tea?”
She sat down heavily, wringing her hands. “I wanted to apologize. About the HOA complaint. I shouldn’t have done that.”
I raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
“It’s just…” She took a deep breath. “My grandson loves coming here because of your decorations. He says it’s the highlight of his visits. And I realized I’ve been so focused on keeping up appearances that I forgot what it’s like to just have fun.”
I felt a pang of sympathy. “We all get caught up in the wrong things sometimes, Irene.”
She nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. “The thing is, Willie’s parents are going through a nasty divorce. These visits are the only bright spots in his life right now. And I almost ruined that with my silly rules and complaints.”
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