Carrie And Me: A Mother-Daughter Love Story Part 9

From: Carrie

To: Mama

Sent: Jan. 1, 2001

Subject: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Was up late last night, watching the ball drop on TV. Since I have no TV at home in Colorado, it's always fun to watch in hotels-it's a guilty pleasure.

It was good to hear your voice tonight. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I began to work on "Sunrise" again and more pages flowed easily and readily last night and this morning. What a relief. I just pray that I have more in me. I thought I had avoided putting any of myself into this story, but now I'm seeing that I have to marry my feelings and experiences with Kate's. I've started to see her as I was when I was in my twenties, which makes it easier for me to get into her head. I'm not sure where her adventure with the cowboy is going from here, but I know the feeling I wish to evoke.

I've also come to the conclusion that the act of writing is almost as important to me as the result (not a bad way to look at it, or at life, for that matter!).

XO, C

To: Carrie

From: Mama

Sent: Jan. 1, 2001

Happy New Year, Honey! Got your pages. Loved the church scene where everyone was happily singing gospel music. I missed out on that kind of churchgoing in my youth. Whenever we'd go to church everyone seemed to be so d.a.m.n serious all the time. I never got it when someone would say, "I really enjoyed today's sermon." It sure didn't look like it to me!

Going to church with Nanny on Sunday mornings was something else entirely. WOW. I remember hitting the Christian Science Church on Hollywood Boulevard. Nanny would go to the service for the grown-ups, while all of us little ones would be herded downstairs to the bas.e.m.e.nt to read Bible stories. I was probably seven, and at that age I hated being separated from Nanny because I was afraid she might drop dead on me. Even though she claimed to be a Christian Scientist she was constantly feeling her pulse, complaining that her heart was skipping beats. If her symptoms didn't improve after quoting sections of Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, she would ask me to give her the bottle of phen.o.barbital she kept as backup. She would pop one or two pills and then conk out for an hour or so.

I remember one Sunday when I decided to skip Sunday school and sneak upstairs to locate Nanny's whereabouts in church. She had made me a navy blue felt hat that sported a red feather that stuck way up in the air. I opened the big doors into the main area of the church, promptly got down on all fours, and began to crawl down the center aisle looking from left to right at everyone's feet. That way I could see if she had keeled over on the floor during one of her spells.

Then I figured if Nanny had keeled over, n.o.body would know it in church because a good Christian Scientist never gets sick; they'd just think she was taking a nap. I was beginning to panic because I hadn't found her yet. I was about to scream for her when someone spotted me and piped up, "Why, look at the little Indian!" The whole congregation began to laugh, and I started to cry. Nanny popped up out of the blue and ushered me out of there. As happy as I was to see her, I cried even louder.

"Now what's the matter?"

"Everybody was laughing at me!" I was mortified.

Nanny said, "They weren't laughing at you; they were laughing at that big red feather sneaking down the aisle."

Now, of course, I love it when I can get a laugh-and it's mortifying when I don't!

From: Carrie

To: Mama

Sent: Jan. 2, 2001

Subject: Lafayette, Louisiana

Dear "Little Indian!"

I think I'll go to the mall tomorrow and look for a hat with a red feather!

From: Carrie

To: Mama

Sent: Jan. 3, 2001

Subject: Lafayette, Louisiana

Stores here in Lafayette open at noon, but I was there at eleven, just walking around with the folks that make it their home. A lot of homeless people crash at this mall at night, which is a good thing as it's very cold here right now, and the idea of sleeping outside is horrific.

My hair appointment at noon was with a nineteen-year-old girl (Rosie) who has a one-year-old daughter out of wedlock with her boyfriend. They're all living with her mother, and Rosie is "so over" this guy, who sounds like a bit of a pill.

He is only twenty-three, but he's already divorced and has a child from his previous relations.h.i.+p! To top it off, he's the jealous type, drives Rosie crazy and she has put up with this nonsense since she was sixteen.

Listening to her I felt like she could've been me at that age. We talked about boundaries and choices and what's better for her daughter to see: a mommy who has clear boundaries and strong self-esteem OR a mommy who compromises and finally gives up. No contest, but in matters of the heart, we can sometimes make very poor choices. It's complicated, of course, but I wanted to SHAKE her and say for G.o.dsakes quit having babies while YOU'RE still a baby! You're only NINETEEN! And she feels it, seeing her friends go out, have fun, etc., while she has very grown-up responsibilities. I felt for her, and was so grateful that I've finally, finally realized that I don't have to put up with any horses.h.i.+t from anybody anymore. AMEN!

It was nice to sit and talk with someone beyond just "Here's your change, have a nice trip." After a few days of that, my exchange with Rosie seemed like a conversation with Noel Coward.

I like it when people open up to me, even when it's a sad tale. I feel for all the homeless folks pus.h.i.+ng their shopping carts with all their worldly belongings around the mall. Funny, for some reason I never thought the South got this cold. I wish there were no homeless people in the world, Mama, but if there have to be, I wish they could at least live where it's warm.

I remember one time when I was in New York. It was snowing, and a homeless man asked me for some money. His coat was threadbare and his gloves were missing a couple of fingers. I did my usual thing and told him I would give him five dollars if he told me his story. He had been a singer in his youth and had dreamed of being in the opera. He had hit on hard times and now he eked out a living singing on street corners-lots of arias. Even though he was old and his voice was shot, he managed to earn just enough to keep him going. I asked him why he didn't invest in a bus ticket and head for a more welcoming climate. Florida, perhaps. He could just as easily sing on street corners there. And he looked at me like I was crazy and said, "What, and miss out on all this culture???"

My hair is now black again, Mama, no purple tint just black, black, black. Most of my friends think it's a good color for me (which makes you the only one who doesn't feel that way). But don't despair, Mama, I can always go back to blond or red or whatever. You know me, my hair color changes like the weather in Kansas!

Interesting, I've never felt totally comfortable in Texas, even though so many of our roots are there. As soon as I crossed the Louisiana border, however, I felt happy, ecstatic!! Louisiana. Even the name is musical. The skies were amazing today, dark, ominous clouds surrounded by a ring of pale blue turning to orange and pink as the sun was going down.

It was dark when I hit Lafayette and I didn't feel like pus.h.i.+ng on to Baton Rouge. Instead of finding my Days Inn, I decided to drive into the center of town. Noticing a virtually abandoned Hilton, my brain went right to room service (spoiled!) and a peaceful night at the computer. Now I'm enjoying some spicy gumbo and crawfish pies (mmmm) and will attempt to write. I promise not to stray from the Days Inn anymore (the Hilton is nice, but not any nicer, and PRICIER!).