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December 28, 2007
Dear Mom,
When we last held each other and spoke, I was an actress with a cool little survival job, interviewing casting directors for Back Stage West.
I am now an author, a columnist, a casting director, a public speaker, a *gulp* producer.
When we last held each other and spoke, I was a single gal, living in a studio apartment in Miracle Mile, pet-sitting as often as possible to get time with animals and in residences larger than one room.
I am now a married step-mother with custody of your cats (plus one of my own), living in a gorgeous two-bedroom ocean-view home just seven blocks from that very same ocean, happy to work from here, because "here" is so lovely.
When we last held each other and spoke, I was driving a super-cute 1990 Mazda Miata that I bought all by myself on my 19th birthday.
Some things never change. Hee! I do love that cute TicTac car (leaks and all)!
When we last held each other and spoke, I had come to the North Georgia Mountains to take care of you in your last days before pancreatic cancer would end you.
THEN
Art Weaver, Charlsie Simonds-Weaver, 1997
My last trip to Georgia was over three years ago, when I cast a TV show for E! and I have no plans to go back.
When we last held each other and spoke, I had been living in LA just under two years (after having done a 13-month stint in LA between undergrad and grad school).
Tomorrow will mark my ninth anniversary (this time) in LA. I'm a local. I can't imagine living anywhere else. I love this place and it loves me.
When we last held each other and spoke, there was so much uncertainty in my life.
I guess there still is.
But I'm better-equipped to handle it, it seems.
It's like--when you died seven years ago this morning--you were put in a much better position to direct traffic into and out of my life. And I always, always feel as though we are holding each other and speaking.
I just have to get quiet enough to recognize that truth sometimes.
I was happy then. I am happy now. You raised a happy child, Mom. What more could a mother want?
Posted by bonnie at December 28, 2007 8:01 AM
Comments
It never goes away, does it?
Of course, the good news is that it never goes away.
I miss your mom and I never even met her. Betcha by golly wow she misses you.
Posted by: communicatrix at December 28, 2007 10:52 PM
{{{hugs}}} Thank you, C-trix. I know you're right. On all counts. *sigh*
Posted by: bon 
at December 29, 2007 6:56 AM
That, my dear, was a poem. And it brought tears.
You and your mom were blessings to each other, it seems.
Posted by: Cole Matson at December 30, 2007 11:29 AM
Thank you, sweetheart. :)
Posted by: bon at December 30, 2007 11:39 AM
Such a lovely tribute to your mom...I could feel the love in your words.
Posted by: Brenda G. Wooley at January 24, 2008 8:41 AM