Carrie And Me: A Mother-Daughter Love Story Part 7

In addition to her story, Carrie was also working on a project that involved the two of us. She had called me a couple of years before, wanting us to write a play together based on my first memoir, One More Time. The play would feature the family I grew up in: my grandmother (Nanny), my mother (Louise), and my father (Jody).

Carrie and I wrote separately-I from Los Angeles, and Carrie from her mountain cabin in Colorado-faxing scenes back and forth. Eventually we had enough of a script to submit to the Sundance Theatre Workshop. We were accepted, and spent a happy time in Utah working together honing our story. We t.i.tled it Hollywood Arms, which had been the name of the apartment building Nanny and I had lived in when we left Texas and moved to California. I sent a rough draft to my friend, Tony-winning director and producer Hal Prince, for his comments and he volunteered to direct and produce our little play! We were over the moon! We decided to aim for a production in Chicago in 2002.

As part of her trip to Graceland, Carrie planned to make two additional stops as research for Hollywood Arms. She was going to visit my hometown, San Antonio, Texas, to see the house I lived in as a little girl. And on her way home from Memphis she planned to stop in Belleville, Arkansas, where Nanny and Mama (my grandmother and mother) were born. Carrie wanted to soak up some "family vibes" in preparation for working on our play. So I swallowed my fear and wished her G.o.dspeed.

From: Carrie

To: Mama

Sent: Dec. 27, 2000

Subject: Surprise, Arizona

HI MAMA! WELL, I'M ON THE ROAD TO GRACELAND! It took me a while to pack up, but I'm happy I'm finally at the wheel. Arrived last night after an uneventful drive. The AZ desert is so beautiful, not quite as dramatic as Utah, but with the sun descending behind me, and new rocks to look at (I'm pretty used to the drive home to CO, so I know those rocks!), I was happy. There are a LOT of retired folks here in golf pants. This a.m. as I was hunting down a cup of coffee, I actually saw a man driving down a three-lane main street in a pretty nifty Jetson-style golf cart! Retirement is cool.

Stopped in Blythe for gas and the woman working at the counter (Lee Press-On Nails) asked if I was visiting family for the holidays. "No, I'm driving to Memphis," I replied.

"Gonna see Elvis' house?"

Yup. I'm goin' to Graceland!

Figure I'll keep going for a day or two more, then stop in San Antonio to visit the house you and Nanny lived in when you were an itty-bitty little thing, and get a nice comfortable hotel room and write for a couple of days. Right now, I'm just absorbing.

I guess Arkansas is in a bad way, weather-wise, but Texas is warm and sunny today and it should be fine driving through the southernmost route the next day or two. If not, I'll hang wherever I land. I must say I feel very happy traveling like this. Maybe I should've been a trucker. Perhaps I was a traveling minstrel in my past life. It sure feels comfortable, safe, and right. (Don't worry about me, Mama!)

Before I hit the road, I had a nice quiet Christmas in my little cabin with some of my dear neighbors and their little girl, Mavis (six), whom I'm crazy about. We sang lots of carols and played Monopoly and Charades. Little Mavis is a whiz at all kinds of games and trounced us grown-ups to a fare-thee-well! The fireplace was blazing away and the moon lit up the snow on the mountain. It was truly a breathtaking sight.

Mama, it's almost 2001!

I plan to spend New Year's in what, I hope, will be a cozy hotel room. I don't mind it at all when I'm alone at times like this. I'm alone, but I'm not lonely.

Hope this finds you well and happy, Mama. Whenever I can get an Internet connection, I'll keep you updated on my doings, and I'll send you more of Kate's and the cowboy's story.

XO, C.

From: Mama

To: Carrie Lou

Sent: Dec. 28, 2000

Hi Honey,

I'm happy your trip thus far has been good, and that you had such a magical Christmas.

It is a beautiful time of the year, and especially thrilling for little kids. Thinking about your six-year-old friend, Mavis, brings back some happy memories I had as a kid. I remembered being in the old house in San Antonio one Christmas Eve, when Nanny and I left an apple under the tree so Santa Claus would have something to eat while he was making his stops around the world. We went to bed and I woke up around midnight. I smelled pipe smoke! Nanny said, "Shhh! Santa's in the house, don't scare him away!"

I could hardly contain my excitement. We waited a few minutes, and then got out of bed. I ran into the parlor and there was a half-eaten apple, and a tiny wooden Snow White doll. We went back to bed and I cuddled the doll all night, thanking Santa in my prayers. I still don't know where the pipe smoke came from!

The only time I got mad at Santa was my seventh Christmas. By this time, Nanny and I had moved to California and we were living in one room with a Murphy pull-down bed. She told me that Santa was "on a tight budget" that Christmas, and not to expect much in the way of presents. I wasn't worried one bit, because I had personally talked to Santa Claus at the Broadway Department Store on Hollywood Boulevard the week before. When it was my turn to sit on his lap, I told him I wanted a Storybook Doll (the equivalent of a Barbie, today). He had smiled at me and nodded. I just knew I was a shoo-in for that doll!

Nanny and I had a tiny scrawny tree and underneath it, on Christmas morning, not a doll was in sight. Instead there was a small package. I tore it open and there was my present from Santa ... a white patent leather coin purse. Empty. I was surprised a moth didn't fly out.

That afternoon Nanny and I got on the bus and went to Aunt Dodo and Uncle Parker's house for turkey. I liked going over there because they had a backyard with a swing set and cousin Janice (we called each other Cuz) and I would go outside and play. That day I remember walking into their living room, where under a tall Christmas tree lay tons of opened boxes and torn wrapping paper. And there it was! A Cinderella Storybook Doll-that Santa had left for Cuz.

Boy, was I p.i.s.sed! I let my hostile feelings toward Santa Claus go the way of the dodo bird about a year later, when I learned that he wasn't real.

Christmas is nice, but I always look forward to the New Year and this year is no different. Meantime, keep the "Sunrise" pages coming! Let's talk on the first.

XO Mama

From: Carrie

To: Mama

Sent: Dec. 30, 2000

Subject: San Antonio, Texas

I'm here, Mama, where you were born!

I've played my music here before, but I was in and out in one night, so I only have a very vague recollection of that visit. I got here early today after having stayed in Junction, TX, last night. Jean, the clerk at the motel (probably in her sixties), marveled at "How you kids seem to just jump in the car and drive all over. Drive, drive, drive! It's as if you want to see everything!"

Well ... yes.

Jean was actually quite delightful. When I told her I was a writer that really got her going. She loves to read. "I go to places in my mind." So I suppose she, too, wants to "see everything," just from the safety of her Barcalounger!

I plan to stay on here until the second.

What a day! I went to the house in San Antonio where you spent your first six years. Great to know the name of the family that still lives there after all these years, and that you send them flowers every Christmas. It made it easier to ring the doorbell. The family that lives there wasn't home, but the housekeeper, Rosa, was. Her English wasn't the greatest, but she was very sweet. When I told her my mama had lived there as a child, she knew immediately who you were and was kind (and trusting!) enough to let me in.