THEN
Charlsie Gillespie, Maxine Simonds, 1951
(assuming the photo was taken *after* Mom’s wedding ceremony)
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?
Bonnie Gillespie is living her dreams by helping others figure out how to live theirs. Wanna work with Bon? Start here. Thanks!
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
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{{{hugs}}} Thank you, C-trix. I know you’re right. On all counts. *sigh*
Posted by: bon at December 29, 2007 6:56 AM
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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
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Thank you, sweetheart. 🙂
Posted by: bon at December 30, 2007 11:39 AM
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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
Bonnie, I’m Franna Awtry Ladd. Your Mom was my astrologer in Atlanta back in the 80s. How I love her, to this day!
I’m saddened to read of her death.
I just had this feeling to Google her, and in so doing, found your beautiful letter to her. My heart breaks for you, as I know the pain of losing the dearest person in ones life.
Thank you for posting this. It gave me such a lift reading your memories of her.
Much love to you and yours,
Franna Awtry Ladd
Franna.awtry@gmail.com
Thank you, Franna! My sweet mother loved her clients so very much and I thank you for reaching out to say you have such lovely memories of her. 🙂
Hello Bonnie
I remember when you were born. I have your picture and birth announcement in my scrapbook. Your mother was so excited to have a girl. For some reason I was thinking of her today and found this tribute on line. My parents knew your grandparents Clay and Mary as well as your parents. Your mom also did my chart several times. I even have her tapes .
Blessings to you
She was a sweet and wonderful friend.
Aw, thank you so much, Dorothy. I love that you stopped by and shared this today. It means a lot. This time of year is so complex and of course Charlsie was and is a bright light in so many ways. I’m so glad your memories of her are sweet ones. That’s the best. XO