Carrie And Me: A Mother-Daughter Love Story Part 5

Sent: Dec. 1, 2000

Well, Mama, the doc.u.ments finally came through. I'm now officially divorced. It feels a little strange. I'm glad I took a long time to file and it took so long to process. As you know, we've been separated since '98! I remember how worried you sounded back then whenever we talked. I knew you could hear it in my voice that things weren't quite right, but I didn't want to get into it, Mama, even after I filed for divorce. I don't know why, but I felt I had to tough it out alone, and I'm grateful you never pushed. I still love him, but I have little respect for the man he became over the last several years, so I don't pine. And it feels good now to be able to open up, knowing it's finally over.

We'd been having problems off and on, but our troubles escalated in '96, when I got the part of Maureen in Rent. This was a big deal for me, being the first national company and all, but instead of being happy for me, he became sullen and withdrawn. He had no job at the time, so this break was a boon to us both, but he didn't see it that way. I asked him to go on the road with me, but he preferred to stay in our cabin and sulk.

How many times I've wished things had worked out. How many times I just wished he had grown with me, instead of against me. The sweet Dr. Jekyll he once was had been turned into the Mr. Hyde I could no longer live with. I wonder if I'll ever love anyone as much again. I do miss that feeling of partners.h.i.+p with someone, and as much as I love my work, you can't talk to your work-or if you do, people look at you funny!

I love you, Mama. Thanks for being there.

C

Carrie bounced back and forth from Colorado to Los Angeles (where she picked up some acting jobs to pay the rent), but she found herself longing for her mountain retreat more and more, and began spending more time there in order to concentrate on writing.

In late 2000, Carrie was working on a new story in her beloved cabin, and began sending pages to me, at home in Los Angeles.

To: Mama

From: Carrie via FAX!

Gunnison, Colorado

Dec. 3, 2000

Hi Mama,

I'm faxing (instead of e-mailing) you the first few scenes of a story that I'm writing, "Sunrise in Memphis." It's about a bohemian girl and the mysterious cowboy she meets, and their road trip to Graceland.

I printed out the pages just before my computer got a headache and then gave me one. I'm taking it into town tomorrow to the "Mr. Fixit" computer store. I hope the owner can create a miracle and have it up and running tomorrow or the next day. He's been pretty good at helping me out in similar situations before. Gunnison may be a small Colorado town, but it rocks!

Meantime, I'm happy that my fax machine is still healthy! Sooo ... I hope you can read my scrawl.

It feels funny putting pen to paper, especially in this era of "high tech," but somehow I don't think it's a bad thing when stuff goes wrong and you have to get back to the basics. Like actually writing an honest-to-G.o.d letter in longhand!

Sometimes I think my handwriting looks suspiciously like yours-the way certain letters curl and dip. Just like how my hands now look like yours-and how at certain angles it looks like you spit and I grew. The line where you end and I begin has always been blurry. And yet there are fundamental differences that make us a unique team, able to balance and complement each other.

Did you know that Steinbeck wrote East of Eden by hand? In PENCIL? I'm reading it now, for the first time, and what a fine novel it is. If you haven't read it, or haven't visited it in a long time, please do so. It's a quick read for such a long novel, thanks to the beauty and simplicity of his writing-dazzling turns of phrases, but not the kind that send you rus.h.i.+ng for a dictionary.

Maybe my computer broke down because I needed to take a breather. This gorgeous Colorado sky is saying, "Get your a.s.s out to the front porch and rock for a while. INHALE! Take in this beautiful and rarified mountain air! Even if it hurts your lungs!" I love my rocking chair. I love my home here, Mama. Funny, I grew up in the city, and became a creature of Hollywood, but I've discovered that this lover of clubs and rock and roll (and all kinds of music) with a bird-of-paradise tattoo on her shoulder, can do a 180 and relish the peace and quiet I find in my mountains. I still love my part-time life in L.A., my friends, the excitement of writing and singing new music, and doing acting jobs on TV that (thank G.o.d) pay the bills. But what I look forward to most is coming back here.

XO Carrie

To: Carrie

From: Mama via FAX

Dec. 3, 2000

Hi Baby, I got your first few pages of "Sunrise in Memphis" and plan to read them as soon as I put my contact lenses in.

I hope your computer will be up and humming along ASAP. I know how frustrating it can be when technology decides to go south. However, make no mistake, I love your "scrawl." How did we ever live without computers??? 'Twas a simpler time back in the covered wagon days when your mama here was a youngster. The good thing is that you're able to take the world in stride by going out to rock in your chair on the front porch and not let this sudden inconvenience spoil your day. I'm happy you're so happy in your mountain hideaway. And I truly admire your love of "waking up and smelling the roses."

Love, Mama

To: Mama

From: Carrie

Dec. 4

Another FAX from your still COMPUTER-LESS daughter!

The first few scenes of SUNRISE came fast, but I'm not sure where they'll be taking me.

I think about the leading character, Kate, often throughout the day, trying to pry into her head and heart and figure out what she needs to learn during the course of this story, and how she will learn it during her journey to Graceland. I know the mysterious cowboy will somehow become her teacher, and I know how the whole thing ends (I'm not gonna tell you yet!), but my challenge will be how to get there.

I'm also including a real-life friend of mine, Charles, as one of the main characters. Charles will be a running thread throughout the story. He's the doorman for the Burgundy Room (a club in Hollywood that will be featured as "flashbacks" in the story). He checks IDs and removes unruly people if needed, and gets everyone to go home when the bar closes at two a.m. A Howard University grad, he was teaching high school English when his fiancee died suddenly of a heart attack, right out of the blue, on the very day he was going to present her with a ring (all of which you will know from reading the story).

Overcome by grief, he locked himself in his house and wouldn't come out for the longest time. The owner of the Burgundy, who knew Charles from his street singing, gave him a job. He has a deep baritone voice and sometimes still sings on the street. That's how I first met him. I spied him on a corner while I was driving in Hollywood, so I parked my Jeep and walked over to listen to him. It didn't take long for me to start singing with him. We clicked immediately.

Charles lives simply and cheaply, goes into his "dark place" sometimes, over the loss of his great love, but for the most part he's a happy camper. Stationed outside the Burgundy seven nights a week he has become confidant and sage for lots of Hollywood kids, from the homeless to young urban hipsters, to artists like me, who just like to talk to him. He's my favorite street singing partner. Our duet of "Under the Boardwalk" kills!

So that's Charles. We trade books and music, stories, thoughts, and always hugs. He is the angel of Hollywood to me. I go in early some nights just to hang out with him, have a slice of pizza and a c.o.ke. A lot of local Hollywood bands have had Charles come in and sing on their records, and you can betcher boots that if I do one, he'll be on it, too.

What wonderful friends I have.

I've been thinking about coming out to L.A. and actually taking the road trip to Graceland myself, starting from Hollywood, just like Kate does. I have so many vistas in my head, music in my ears, sensations and feelings about it that I think (hope) they will come pouring out during my journey. Her adventure will be very different from mine, but of course Kate and I are deeply connected.

Thank G.o.d for this place, Mama. It took me thirty-seven years to find it, but I feel I've always been a mountain girl at heart. This is my true home, and I am so very happy to be here right now. It's so quiet you could hear a field mouse fart. Now THAT'S quiet! Speaking of mice, my kitties are here this time, so I am surely rodent-free. Pee Wee is snoring next to me, his oversized Great Dane body soaking up some good ol' Vitamin D from the suns.h.i.+ne. It's the perfect place to write.

I love to write, Mama. I think I might love it even more than acting, or singing, or directing, which I surely love, too. And it certainly felt great to wrap up that short movie I told you I was working on, Lunchtime Thomas. I don't remember how much of the story I told you, but it's about this poor Mexican owner of an out-of-the-way desert motel and gas station, whose best friend, Thomas, was accidentally responsible for the deaths of the Mexican man's wife and child in a car crash. The man has forgiven Thomas, but Thomas hasn't forgiven himself, and has holed up in one of the motel rooms. It was my first writing and directing effort with Jody as my producer, and I'm very proud of how it turned out. I'm submitting it to the Latino Film Festival this year, and I'm so excited I can hardly stand it!