Carrie And Me: A Mother-Daughter Love Story Part 3

She was due to receive her one-year-of-sobriety necklace soon-a more elaborately designed leather thong with the monkey's fist-and Joe and I wanted to celebrate by throwing a small reception at the church where the presentation was going to take place. When the day came Joe and I, with Jody and Erin, got to the church early, around five p.m. A lot of Carrie's friends were already there, plus a few grown-ups, friends of the family. One year! I kept thanking G.o.d over and over.

Carrie hadn't arrived yet. She was going to drive there with some schoolmates. They were several minutes late, but finally she breezed in, all smiles. She waved to us, but didn't come over for hugs. I felt a slight pang in my stomach... .

The presentation was quite moving, and afterward Carrie was proudly wearing her new necklace as the crowd enjoyed punch, sandwiches, and cookies. We hugged her and congratulated her.

"Mama, is it okay if my friends and I go out to celebrate tonight? I just need to go home and change first."

"Of course. Be home by ten?"

"Sure, great!"

I had hoped that Carrie would have dinner with us, but I didn't want to interfere if she wanted to be with her friends on this big day, so Joe, Jody, Erin, and I went out for an early dinner at Carmine's. When we came home, it looked like Carrie had already gone out, but the lights in her bedroom were still on. I went into her room to be sure, and my heart sank. She had taken off her one-year necklace and had tossed it on her bed. I knew right then that she had been lying to us.

That night Joe and I waited up for Carrie to come home. It was a little after eleven when we heard her car pull in the driveway. She came up the back stairs very quietly and went into her room. We knocked on her door, looked at each other, and went in... .

Diary entry:

We're sending her back to PDAP in Houston. One of the counselors is coming out here to fly back with her as a chaperone. I'm completely devastated. What does this mean? Can we never be sure of anything in this life? Must we always be walking on eggsh.e.l.ls? Must we always be waiting for the other shoe to drop? Will I ever be happy again? Can I ever trust her again? What was that line we heard during Family Week? "How can you tell when addicts are lying?" "When they open their mouths."

Carrie was checked into the hospital and the detox routine began all over again.

Before all this happened, I had begun work on the movie Annie, in which I played the role of Miss Hannigan. In a way I was grateful for the distraction. There were even times when I felt like I was having fun. (When was the last time I'd had fun?) But the very next thing I'd feel would be guilt.

Joe was busy preparing to produce Mama's Family, a spin-off series based on characters from our variety show, and Jody and Erin had mostly fallen silent around us. It was obvious they were angry at their father and me for sending their sister away again.

Then we got a call from PDAP saying Carrie had run away, followed by a call from Carrie herself telling us she was on her way back to L.A. She had brought some money with her and hidden it from the PDAP staff, planning her getaway before she even arrived. She had just enough cash to take a bus to California.

Carrie came back to L.A., but she didn't come home. She stayed with "friends" somewhere in the city. I called her counselor in Houston, in tears, asking what we should do. I wanted to track her down and bring her home. I had never known such fear. Carrie was back to where she had been at the beginning of this nightmare. The counselor's advice? "Tough love! Don't let her come home while she's high. Let her hit bottom." I listened to him because I simply didn't know what else to do, but each day was a slow torment.

The filming of Annie came to an end, and now I was back home every day, where Joe and I were having our problems, too.

He had begun to drink again.

Diary entry:

First Daddy and Mama, then Joe, and now Carrie. Dear G.o.d in heaven, what next?

At the time, we owned a condominium in Hawaii where we spent vacations, so I decided to get Jody and Erin as far away from L.A. as possible for a while. I packed our suitcases and we flew to Maui, leaving Joe and Carrie behind.

Diary entry:

We went to the beach today, and had dinner at the Spill and Grill. The girls must sense something's wrong between their father and me, but I keep mum about it. I don't talk about Carrie, either. The right words escape me. I'm grateful Jody and Erin have each other, because their mother is a helpless mess.

Once Jody, Erin, and I left town, Carrie started going to the house in L.A. and visiting with Joe, bringing her laundry. She may have wanted to return home, but Joe told her she couldn't move back in while she was still getting high. After that, her visits became less frequent.

From Hawaii I spoke to Joe often, and one day he told me he was going to enter a rehab facility outside of Los Angeles. He had committed to the thirty-day program and was leaving the house in the care of our housekeeper, Gigi. I was happy that he had made that decision. Maybe he had "hit his bottom."

In Maui, I dreamed of Carrie every night, finding myself in different scenarios, trying to find her, not knowing how she was, or even if she was still alive. I would wake up in a cold sweat, terrified.

Diary entry:

Gigi called and said Carrie came by asking for money, and that she looked like death. Ashen, gaunt, rail-thin, and shaking. I have to do something NOW! I'm not going to wait until she hits bottom. No, no, no! She's my baby. As far as I'm concerned, she has "hit bottom" now!

Carrie was seventeen, so legally Joe and I were still in charge, but that would only last until her eighteenth birthday. I called Gigi back and told her to tell Carrie that her dad would give her some money, but she would have to go to the rehab facility where he was, in order to get it. Gigi would drive her there. I then called the rehab facility, told them the story, and asked that they admit her immediately. They put me through to Joe, and I filled him in.

I hung up and waited. All h.e.l.l was breaking loose in California, and here I was with Jody and Erin three thousand miles away on an island in the middle of the Pacific. I stared at the phone for over two hours waiting for a call-waiting and weeping. The girls were obviously worrying about me, but I knew they had their fears about Carrie, too. I just wasn't able to console myself at the moment, much less them.

Finally, the phone rang and the person on the other end introduced himself as Dr. Peters. He told me that when Carrie realized she had been tricked she had gone crazy and had tried to run away. She couldn't get out of the building, though, and finally they were able to restrain her. Furious, she was cursing me and calling me every name in the book, even though I wasn't there. After the doctor had calmed Carrie down, he gave her a sedative to help her sleep. We were at the beginning of yet another thirty-day program.

I knew I had done the right thing. I finally realized I had to love her enough to let her hate me.

Diary entry:

Exhausted, but awake. It's four a.m.

Leaving for L.A. with Jody and Erin in a few short hours. Another "Family Week" ahead.

Feel compelled to write, but don't know what exactly. Thinking about the time Joe and I discussed finding some underprivileged kid who got good grades but would never be able to afford a good private boarding school, and pay for his or her high school education (which we wound up doing anonymously). This came out of a discussion about Carrie and whether or not she could ever appreciate the opportunities that had been handed to her.

Will she straighten out this time, or will she blow it?

She's writing her own life story now. She has the potential for having and doing it all-a good brain, a sense of humor, enormous charisma, plus financial means. I'm coming to realize that this puts an extra burden on a soul, and that she needs to be extra strong to avoid succ.u.mbing to all those temptations out there. It's just too easy for someone who grew up the way she did to simply live for the many pleasures of this materialistic world. Everything she could ever ask for has just been handed to her, but if she can take these things and choose the path of giving and helping, she could accomplish so much in her lifetime.

I just realized something! For all the obvious difficulties of my childhood, I had it easier than Carrie did! I am dumbstruck by the thought. Not only did our modest means provide me with far fewer temptations, but my goal in life was crystal clear from the beginning: survival. Period. There was no room in my life for experimentation. Anything that didn't contribute to staying alive was an indulgence I couldn't afford, pure and simple.

Now I'm thinking that Carrie and kids like her (by that I mean from all outside appearances) aren't actually born into fortunate circ.u.mstances at all when it comes to developing character, or their souls. If someone heads along a good path IN SPITE OF a silver spoon in their mouth, then I believe they've really done more hard work than someone like me, who had none of the distractions and temptations that come with those "advantages."

G.o.d, how often do we say and hear, "I just don't get it. These kids today have so much more than we ever had. We had to work, we had no money, we had to struggle. What the h.e.l.l's the matter with them? They should be so d.a.m.n grateful. We certainly would be!"

Would we?

Could we have survived and made something of ourselves if we hadn't HAD to?

Odd. Suddenly I don't seem to resent these people for their "golden opportunities" now. The prost.i.tute who gives up her way of life seems to me more blessed than the pious woman who was never tempted to use her body to make a living.

In other words, if you don't like chocolate, then you're not proving much by refusing a bonbon.

4:45 a.m.

I guess this is why I woke up. These thoughts have made some things more clear to me, and I pray they will help me to help Carrie ... and to be more understanding and less frightened, although I know this is not over, not by a long shot.

The wee hours of quiet and solitude are precious. I know this time has been put to good use, and for this I'm grateful, too.

As Jody, Erin, and I were flying over the ocean to L.A. I thought about the strange turn of events that put my daughter and my husband in the same situation at the same time in the same hospital. I was nervous, not only for myself, but for all of us. Jody and Erin were too young to have all this stress surrounding Carrie foisted upon them, and now their father was in the mix. I closed my eyes and prayed for us all.