Millionaires are Jamie Lee Curtis and her spouse Christopher Guest. However, for the past 30 years, the famous couple has made the decision to reside in the same stunning home.
In December 2022, Jamie Lee Curtis and Christopher Guest celebrated their 38th wedding anniversary. Throughout their marriage, they have resided in the same home. Annie and Ruby, their children, grew up in the beautiful house.
Jamie Lee Curtis is a Hollywood royalty, descended from actor Tony Curtis and actress Janet Leigh. She developed a prosperous acting career by following in their footsteps and starring in beloved films like “Halloween” and “Freaky Friday.”
Curtis has received recognition for her exceptional acting abilities throughout her career. She was previously nominated for a Golden Globe for the sitcom “Anything But Love.” She was raised in Los Angeles, first as an adult and subsequently with her parents.
Curtis is one of the few well-known writers who has won over critics and book lovers in addition to her acting profession. She became well-known for writing children’s books when she released “When I Was Little: A Four-Year-Old’s Memoir of Her Youth” in 1993.
Books that her kids inspired
Actor-Filmmaker Christopher Guest is credited by Curtis with inspiring her two children. The basis for her second novel, “Tell Me Again About The Night I Was Born,” which was released in 1996, came from the adoption of their oldest child, Annie.
She co-wrote the New York Times best-selling book “Today I Feel Silly and Other Moods That Make My Day” two years later. She wrote “Is There Really a Human Race?” in 2006, drawing inspiration from Ruby, her adoptive daughter.
HER MATERNITY WITH CHRISTIPH GUEST
Since 1984, Curtis and her spouse have been joined in marriage. She has expressed her gratitude to the man countless times, and she is thrilled to spend the rest of her life with him. On their 36th anniversary of marriage, she wrote:
“My hand is in his.” Both then and now. Our children, families, and friends were the connections in our emotional chain, guiding us through both success and failure.
Curtis previously talked candidly about the instant she realized she would marry Guest. The actress made it real when she saw his photo in a Rolling Stone publication in 1984, right before the premiere of “This Is Spinal Tap.”
The actress claimed that she gestured to a picture of Guest sporting a plaid shirt. She pointed at him and informed her companion that she would marry that man even though she had never seen him before.
Curtis decided to take a chance and called Guest’s agent the very following day. If Guest was interested, she asked him to phone her and gave him his number.
Sadly, he never phoned, and she continued living her life and dating other men. She drove to Hugo’s restaurant in West Hollywood after they broke up. She looked up there and noticed Guest three tables away.
She waved back to Guest when he had finished waving. He raised his hand and gave a shrug as he stood up to go. He phoned her the very next day, and they went on their first date a few days later.
After a few months, Guest took a plane to New York City to record “Saturday Night Live” for a whole year. They were totally enamored with one another at the time, and they haven’t looked back.
The 1920s Spanish Colonial Revival house that Curtis entered in 1992 would end up being her first residence. Regarding the interior design of the home, the actress said, “There’s not one piece that I didn’t go out and buy or that I can’t tell you a story about,” acknowledging that at the time she thought she could make any place beautiful.
For Guest, however, it was not. Curtis revealed that he would frequently display disdain in his facial expressions when house hunting. But he was different for this particular property.
He began examining the eucalyptus trees around the house and its terracotta roof tiles before concluding that they ought to buy it. He would subsequently say that the home’s park-like environment had pleased him.
Despite being built in 1929, the house had not been modified when the previous owners moved in. As a result, they enlisted Jan McFarland Cox’s assistance to revitalize the house, which is now light and spacious.
The house is filled with traces of Curtis’s two children. She combined aspects of a more modern zen design with those of an ancient traditional Mediterranean home.
Curtis and Guest’s belief that fusing old and new is an integral part of who they are is reflected in the home. The home serves as an inspiration for the children’s book author to produce works of art.
The couple worked with architect Michael B. Lehrer and his wife Mia on renovations and landscape design while they were renovating the home before moving in. Before remodeling the master bedroom and bathroom, they started on adding bedrooms for their kids.
After remodeling the basement level, Lehrer opened up the kitchen to create a family area—a location that Curtis refers to as “the emotional center of the house.” She asked Cox to design interiors that highlighted the Mediterranean roots of the home.
Curtis and Guest are positive that they have brought happiness into the house. “I think it’s like anything: it’s a work in progress,” a guest once said. This house will continue to exist.
It’s true that Curtis uses wall art, hanging fabric dividers, and kitchen towels to hang inspirational sayings to keep the home lively. Timeless hardwood furnishings that maintain the Mediterranean aesthetic perfectly complement their home’s light and airy ambiance.
Curtis and Guest created a devoted household, but they also shared a profound understanding of what it meant to be “home” with one another. When I pull up and see that you are home, I feel protected, the actress once wrote a song for her husband.
She feels that the song’s words, despite their simplicity, perfectly capture what it means to be in a long marriage. She values the security that comes from knowing her spouse is home and that she is not by herself.
Now that they are empty nesters, Curtis and Guest take solace in their time spent together. Their daughter Ruby changed from her prior identity as Thomas, and their oldest daughter Annie is now married.
At the age of 25, Ruby, the second of Curtis’s two children with Guest, made the decision to transition. With Ruby teaching her to reject the notion that gender is fixed, Curtis is ecstatic for her children.
Ruby married in 2022 in the same manner that Annie is already married. Curtis was pleased to announce that she presided over her daughter’s wedding.
Old Woman Finds Note at Son’s Grave That Will Leave You in Tears
For Nancy, her son Henry was everything; she could not imagine life without him. It had been 23 years since the terrible accident that took Henry’s life. Every year on that day, she brought his favorite pie to his grave to remember him. But this year, something was about to change.
For 23 years, Nancy, now 61, had never missed a single year on this date. She baked her late son’s favorite pie and took it to his grave each year since he passed away.
The pie, a simple but delicious apple and cinnamon treat, had been Henry’s favorite since he was a child.
The smell of apples and cinnamon reminded her of when Henry was young, running into the kitchen with his eyes shining at the sight of the pie.
On this day, just like every year before, Nancy carefully carried the freshly baked pie to the graveyard.
The dish felt heavier as she walked toward Henry’s resting place. The grave was neat and covered in flowers, showing how much he was still loved.
The stone had become smoother over the years because she often ran her fingers over it, lost in her memories.
Nancy knelt and placed the pie gently on the gravestone. Her heart ached as she began to speak, her voice quiet, as if Henry might somehow hear her.
“Henry, I hope you’re at peace, my love. I miss you every day. I baked your favorite pie again. Remember how we used to bake it together? You always snuck a taste before it was done.”
She smiled, but her eyes were misty with tears. “I wish we could do that one more time.”
The familiar sorrow welled up inside her, but Nancy had learned over the years to push through the tears.
She quickly wiped her eyes and managed a small smile. After a few more moments of silence, she kissed her fingers and touched the top of the gravestone as she said her quiet goodbye.
Then, with a heavy but comforted heart, she turned and walked away, knowing she would be back next year, just like always.
The next day, as part of her routine, Nancy returned to Henry’s grave to clean up the remains of the pie.
Usually, by the time she returned, the pie was either untouched or spoiled by the weather, a quiet reminder of her son’s absence.
She found it bittersweet, knowing the pie stayed where she left it, as if waiting for him.
But today, as she approached the grave, something felt different. Nancy’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the plate was clean—completely empty. For a moment, she stood frozen in disbelief.
Then, she noticed something else. Resting on the plate was a small piece of paper, folded in half.
Nancy’s hands trembled as she picked up the note. Her breath caught in her throat as she unfolded it.
The handwriting was shaky, as though the writer had struggled to form the letters. The simple words read: “Thank you.”
Her heart pounded with confusion and anger.
“Who took Henry’s pie?” she muttered under her breath, clutching the note tightly. “This was for my son. No one had the right to touch it!”
Her private ritual, her way of honoring and remembering her son, had been disturbed by a stranger.
She felt violated, as if someone had stolen a piece of her grief.
With her emotions swirling—part outrage, part confusion—Nancy left the cemetery, determined to find the person who had taken her son’s pie. She needed to know who had done this and why.
Determined to catch the culprit, Nancy decided to take action. She couldn’t let someone continue to disrupt how she honored Henry. So, she made a plan.
That night, she baked another of Henry’s favorite pies, the same apple and cinnamon recipe she had been making for over twenty years.
The next morning, with renewed resolve, she placed the freshly baked pie on Henry’s grave, just like before, but this time she wasn’t leaving.
She found a large oak tree nearby and hid behind it, close enough to see the grave but far enough to not be noticed.
The warm aroma of the pie drifted through the air, filling the quiet cemetery.
Time passed slowly as Nancy watched and waited, her heart racing in anticipation.
An hour later, she spotted movement. A small figure cautiously approached the grave. Nancy squinted, leaning forward to get a better look.
It wasn’t the greedy thief she had imagined. No, this was something entirely different.
A young boy, no older than 9, with ragged clothes and dirt smudged on his face, moved toward the pie with careful steps.
Nancy’s heart tightened as she watched him. The boy didn’t immediately take the pie.
Instead, he knelt by the grave and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small scrap of paper and a dull pencil. His hand trembled as he carefully scribbled something on the paper, his brow furrowed with concentration.
It was clear the boy struggled with writing, but he took his time, making sure each word was clear.
Nancy’s heart softened as she saw him write “Thank you” on the paper, just like before. He wasn’t a thief; he was just a hungry child, grateful for the kindness of a pie left behind.
The anger that had once consumed Nancy melted away in an instant. She realized this boy wasn’t stealing; he was surviving. He was in need, and her son’s favorite pie had brought him comfort.
As the boy began to pick up the pie, his small hands shaking, Nancy stepped out from her hiding spot.
The rustle of leaves under her feet made him freeze, wide-eyed. Startled, he dropped the pie, and it tumbled onto the grass. His face paled, and he backed away, looking terrified.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” the boy cried, his voice trembling with panic. “I was just so hungry, and the pie was so good. Please don’t be mad.”
Nancy’s heart softened instantly. The sight of him—thin, dirty, and scared—erased any anger she had felt before.
She knelt beside him, speaking gently, her voice as comforting as she could make it. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. Where are your parents?” she asked. The boy stayed silent and shook his head. “What’s your name?” Nancy asked, understanding that the boy had nowhere to go.
“Jimmy,” he muttered, still avoiding her eyes, ashamed of what he had done.
“Well, Jimmy,” Nancy smiled softly, trying to reassure him, “it’s okay. You don’t have to steal pies. If you’re hungry, all you had to do was ask.”
Jimmy looked up at her, his lips quivering as he tried to speak. “I didn’t mean to steal,” he said, his voice small and shaky. “I just… I don’t get to eat much, and that pie was the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Nancy’s heart ached for him, and her mind filled with thoughts of how different this boy’s life must be.
The hunger in his eyes reminded her of her own son, Henry, when he eagerly waited for that first bite of her freshly baked pie.
But Henry never had to worry about where his next meal would come from. Jimmy, on the other hand, looked like he had been living with hunger for a long time.
“Come with me,” Nancy said after a moment of thought. She stood up and reached out her hand to him. “I’ll bake you a fresh pie, just for you.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust his own ears. “Really?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.
Nancy nodded, her heart filled with a strange but comforting warmth. “Yes, really. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Slowly, Jimmy reached out and took Nancy’s hand.
She led him back to her home, the boy walking beside her in silence, his eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure if this was all real. Nancy’s heart swelled with the thought of what she was about to do.
Baking had always been her way of showing love, and now, after years of baking for a son she could no longer see, she was about to bake for someone who truly needed it.
When they reached her cozy kitchen, Nancy set to work, rolling out the dough, slicing the apples, and adding just the right amount of cinnamon—just as she had done many times before.
Jimmy watched her quietly from the corner of the kitchen, his eyes wide as he followed every move she made.
The smell of the pie began to fill the room, warm and comforting, like a hug from a long-lost friend.
Once the pie was baked, Nancy placed it in front of Jimmy. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“This one’s all for you.”
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. But then he grabbed a slice and took a bite. His face lit up with joy, and his eyes sparkled as he chewed.
“This is the best pie I’ve ever had,” he said, his mouth still full. He ate with such happiness that it brought tears to Nancy’s eyes.
She watched him in silence, thinking about how something as simple as a pie could bring so much comfort to someone.
As Jimmy devoured the warm slices with obvious delight, Nancy couldn’t help but think of Henry.
She had always dreamed of seeing her son eat his favorite pie again, watching him enjoy it the way he used to when he was a child.
But now, in some strange and unexpected way, she was sharing it with another boy who needed it just as much.
Watching Jimmy eat, Nancy felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be.
Maybe fate had brought Jimmy into her life for a reason. By feeding him, by offering kindness when he needed it most, she was honoring Henry’s memory in a way she had never imagined.
For the first time in years, Nancy felt that her grief had led her to something beautiful—a connection, a purpose that gave new meaning to her life.
Maybe, just maybe, this was Henry’s way of sending her a message—that love and kindness should always find their way back to those in need.
Nancy smiled as she watched Jimmy finish the last slice of pie, her heart full of warmth and gratitude.
She had found an unexpected connection in the most unlikely place, and it filled her soul in a way that nothing else had in years.
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