| November 13, 2003
Wow - has it REALLY been SO
long since I've written a journal entry? I actually started
writing several of them, starting with my Father's Day entry,
but things kept getting in the way and I never seemed to get
them to where I wanted them so that they could be posted on
the site. It's on my list of things to do, to go back and
finish them up and get them posted, but at the rate I'm going,
it may be next father's day by the time I get them all
finished!! Hopefully everyone will understand that between now
and last June, I've been in a huge transition period - moving
to a new house, launching some career things that will help me
to move forward, some family trips, (and a few hiccups here
and there, like a malfunctioning computer! Ugh!), etc. etc.
I'm not trying to make any excuses, but the reality is that
the time for writing the kinds of journal entries that I truly
care about sort of got away from me.
Anyway, I was just sitting
with my dog, Duke, and sort of reflecting on life, and decided
it was time to finally sit down and write something for all of
you. Actually, truth be told, I was initially on my way to
grab something to eat from the kitchen and I saw Duke laying
there on the couch, resting his head on his paws and looking
up at me with those big brown eyes of his. And for anyone
that's ever met my dog, he's the master of the puppy dog look.
He can make you melt with one quick glance! And as he gets
older (he'll be 12 in January), I never want to miss out on a
single special moment with him - even if it's just to give him
a huge hug and tell him that I love him. So anyway, before I
got a phone call from one of my friends to yell at me for
forgetting to eat again, I WAS on my way to get food…but
Duke looked so sweet lying there looking up at me, so I went
over to the couch, laid down and pulled him over so that he
was curled up in my arms and we just sat there for a while.
These moments with Duke are some of my favorite moments of my
life, especially since I never know how much longer he'll be
around to lay there on the couch with. For me, it's a time to
just feel so contented and happy, like everything is right
with the world, because I've got my dog in my arms and he's
safe and sound and happy. It's such a great feeling, because
you know that your dog's love is completely unconditional and
nothing you do will ever make them stop loving you. And a lot
of times when we're laying like that, I love to sing to him.
And so for a little while this afternoon, I sat with Duke in
my arms and sang some of my favorite songs to him…and I also
thought about life and reflected on where I've been and where
I am and where I'm going. I thought about how lucky I am to
have some of the people that I have in my life and how they
constantly inspire me to be a better person. I thought about
the people in my life who, like Duke, also love me
unconditionally - just for being me. And then I thought about
what I've done for myself that has moved my life along in a
positive way, as well as what I've done to put roadblocks up
in front of me. And it made me wonder if I have always been
good about loving myself unconditionally, just the way that
Duke does. We all should love ourselves unconditionally, of
course. But I started to think about whether that was actually
always the case, or whether periods of disappointment or times
when we've let ourselves down compromises the love that we
feel for ourselves. And if that's case, then what is the price
that we pay for not loving ourselves unconditionally during
those times.
I think we all have times
when we're so incredibly productive and everything falls into
place, but then there are other times when we feel like we
fall short and really let ourselves down. It's easy to be
happy when you are achieving everything that you want to
achieve and life is going the way you want it to. But
sometimes the challenge in life is how to be happy and love
yourself unconditionally when you're facing challenges -
especially if those challenges have been self-induced. Have
you ever had a time in your life when you got so caught up in
the day to day, that you sort of lost sight of the bigger
picture and your real goals? Have you ever found yourself
waking up one morning and feeling like things just aren't
working and you have nobody to blame but yourself? Everyone
deals with those times very differently. Some people hit a
bump in the road and pop pretty easily back into place. Some
people need to hit rock bottom before they can pick themselves
up and move ahead. Yet others may need help before they can
get back on track again. And sadly, some even try to ignore
what's in front of their faces and instead go into a sort of
isolated hibernation where they won't have to admit to
themselves or the people around them that they're in trouble.
But then there are the
people who I think are the most inspirational. They are the
ones that realize that everyone gets off track now and again.
And so when it happens to them, and they suddenly have the
realization that something isn't working, they are the people
who don't go into a tailspin, but instead get excited about
the challenge of MAKING it work. I like that method the best.
I can't say I'm always great at it, but it's something that I
definitely aspire to and think I get better and better at the
older I get.
But what's really the
difference between the people that stagnate in their
disappointments and the ones who are able to get past them and
move on quickly. I know it's a combination of factors, but I
think a core part of it really comes down to blame - namely,
the blame we put on ourselves. I was thinking about blame
today because I had a frustrating situation with some house
repairs that had to be done. There was a series of things that
lead to these repairs taking 3 times as long as they should
have, and then having to be done over and over because of
shoddy workmanship. All of the problems really pinpointed to
this woman who owns a company that should have taken the
responsibility to see to it that things got done correctly in
the first place, instead of taking the cheap route and trying
to save a buck. In the end, her poor choices caused a lot of
frustration, wasted time and expense. So of course, in a
situation like this, it's very easy to place blame. We all
knew where the blame belonged, and although she didn't want to
admit it, I'm quite certain that she too knew who was to
blame. (Just as an aside, to get it off my chest, some people
never seem to get it that being FRUGAL saves money, but being
CHEAP and cutting corners ends up costing SO much more than
just handling it correctly in the first place!)
ANYWAY, of course, in life
there are those circumstances where you can easily blame
another person and lay the responsibility on their shoulders.
But for now, I really want to focus on the blame we put on
ourselves. Tonight, this woman is having to deal with placing
the blame of two days of frustration, worker's injuries and
unnecessary expense solely on herself. And although I'll never
know the answer to this, It would be interesting to know how
she deals with that blame or if she just blocks it out
completely.
But how do you deal with
blame….and how do I deal with blame, when we've placed that
blame firmly on our own shoulders? Have you ever stepped back
and wondered whether you were being held back from getting
what you truly want in your life because of the blame you hang
onto from letting yourself down or from making mistakes? Think
of a child who is caught breaking something they were told
over and over not to touch. Think of how that child feels when
they are caught and punished and have to face being blamed for
what they did. Does the child simply jump up and go back to
being happy-go-lucky again? Well, some kids might. But I think
more often than not, if the punishment and the scolding is
strong enough, the child has the wind knocked out it's sails
and, at least for a time, loses that spark in their eye and
the boundless energy that kids always seem to have when things
are going their way. Can you ever think of a time in your life
when you really let yourself down or fell so short of your
goals and lost sight of your dreams that when you stopped and
"caught" yourself and dealt out the blame, that the
wind was knocked out of your sails? A time when you let things
get so bad and you were so upset with yourself that the guilt
of it left you feeling dejected and feeling like you'll never
be able to make up for what you've done to yourself? And if
you have ever had a time like that in your life, how long did
it last? Was it a few minutes or a few hours and then you
bounced back again? Or was it longer…maybe weeks, maybe
months…..how about years? How many have let financial
problems get in the way of putting away money for something
that is really important to them and then got so far behind
that what was once so important had become virtually
impossible? How many have let life get in the way of exercise
and eating right and found themselves so out of shape that the
idea of getting back to where they were seems daunting? How
many have hated themselves for letting something like that
happen and not being able to stop it?
We can all fill in the
blanks for times that we've let ourselves down. But what's
REALLY important is how we handled it once we realized our
mistakes and faced our shortcomings. There's not a single
person out there who hasn't (or won't someday) face an issue
like this. But what's the different between someone who picks
themselves up and jumps right back on track, and someone who
stays in that downward spiral? I think a good part of it is
based on blame. Think of that child again who broke something
they were not supposed to touch. Imagine the difference
between a child who is punished over and over and never
allowed to forget that they were to blame for breaking
something SO important, as opposed to a child who gets a
punishment that makes it VERY clear it should NEVER happen
again, but then afterward and from there on out, is treated
with love and respect and made to feel important and not like
they ruined the world by ruining something important.
Obviously punishment and blame does have it's place - or
nobody would ever learn the important lessons. But how many of
us punish ourselves over and over again because we were to
blame for something going wrong? Doesn't there come a time
when you need to stop being hard on yourself and stop feeling
disgust at letting yourself down? How can you ever get back on
track and start making up for the mistakes and start following
through on the things that are most important to you if you
won't stop punishing yourself? And how much MORE have you lost
because you won't stop punishing yourself.
Of course, there are
varying degrees for everyone in how blame plays out in our
lives. But what I want everyone to remember, is that it's
never too late, and that what you did in the past, even the
recent past, does NOT have to determine what you will do in
the future. Sure, sometimes doors might be closed, but there
are always other doors. And hopefully, in most cases, the
doors won't be completely closed and you'll be able to do all
that you wanted to do. But remember, if you keep focusing on
blaming yourself and constantly punishing yourself over and
over, you will never get through those doors. Like the good
book says "learn your lessons well". But also don't
emotionally pummel yourself to the point where you never
achieve anything.
Before I end this journal
entry, I want to share something with you that I once heard:
When a plane takes off from one airport to fly to another, it
is off course over 90% of the time! Winds shifts and air
traffic cause non-stop changes in direction and altitude, even
sometimes affecting the timing of the arrival. So adjustments
need to be made by the pilot throughout the entire flight,
because all kinds of things get in the way of flying an exact
straight line to the destination. BUT, that pilot never doubts
that he or she will land that plane on a dime at the airport
they are headed for. But to make that happen, the pilot has to
adjust to all of the unexpected things that come up. Imagine
for a minute how many planes would never reach their
destinations if the pilots didn't make the necessary
adjustments and weren't willing to change their flight plans
when necessary.
And life is like that too.
We don't always get the perfect straight line to take us to
where we want to go in our lives. The winds will shift, you
have to adjust to the traffic that shows up on your radar
screens, and if you have engine trouble, you may even need to
land somewhere else and start your journey over later on. But
don't ever give up on your journey, or beat yourself up
because of a delay in your journey. Instead, be like those
pilots, and adjust your course and get back on track and face
what's in front of you now, instead of worrying about the
winds that blew you off course 10 miles back. Those winds are
behind you, and you need to put your energy into the winds
you're about to face. And never ever doubt that your
destination will be well worth your efforts.
Much love to you all.
Love, Henry
Monday, May 26, 2003
Memorial Day 2003. Wow,
there is just so much on my mind and so much that I want to
write about today. And although there are a lot of personal
things on my mind today, I can't help but honor the meaning of
Memorial Day, a day to memorialize those who fought for this
great country of ours and gave their lives so that we can have
the freedoms that are so important to our way of life. I think
it's important to also remember those who might not have given
their lives, but are no less heroic: those that may have
sustained serious lifelong injuries, or those who devoted
their livelihoods and careers towards military service, and
especially those who gave up so much time with their loved
ones towards the pursuit of the greater good. I shudder to
think of what my life would be like if I didn't live in a
country where our personal freedoms are protected and where we
are free to pursue our lives and live out our dreams AS WE SEE
FIT. How can you even begin to memorialize all of those brave
people who gave their lives over the past 227 years so that we
can live in a free America?
I've written about heroes
here in the journal in the past and yet, I've not taken the
time to really talk about the great heroes that have fought
for this country. I don't know that I can say anything better
than what has been said and written by so many great writers
and speakers over the years. But in my own small way, I just
want to say thank you. Thank you to all of those that have
died too young while fighting for ideals of freedom, and to
all of those who have devoted their lives towards letting
freedom reign, not just for we Americans, but for all people
of this earth. I honor all of you, from the heroes who fought
in 1776 to create this great country…to the heroes of the
civil war who fought to allow ALL people to live free in a
country that would never again allow slavery…to the heroes
of World War I and World War II who fought to ensure freedom
not only for all Americans but also for the innocent victims
of hatred and anti-Semitism in Europe, those heroes who fought
against evil foreign dictators who wanted to eradicate freedom
from the face of the earth…..to the heroes of Korea and
Vietnam, of the Gulf War and the numerous conflicts throughout
the world in the past 20 or 30 years that could have posed a
threat to our way of life. And I most especially thank and
honor the new heroes that have given their lives in Iraq and
Afghanistan, and to those who continue this horrific fight
against terrorism. And I thank, in advance, the men and women
who will continue to fight for freedom against other rogue
dictatorships and nations who will continue to threaten our
freedoms and our very lives if given half a chance. I'm
embarrassed that I cannot come up with better words and a
better tribute, and I'm certain I've left something important
out, but my heart is in the right place, and my pride in our
armed forces will hopefully show through.
But no memorial day would
be complete without honoring the men and women who protect us
in this country, our law enforcement officers and our
firefighters. These men and women have to be the bravest of
the brave in my opinion. In the wake of the 9/11 tragedy, we
all came to know just how brave and heroic our firefighters
truly are. I don't know that anyone ever really questioned
that, but unless you had been directly affected by a fire or
actually seen a rescue before 9/11, I don't think many people
had truly understood the bravery and the selfless dedication
that it takes to be a firefighter. And I thank those brave men
and women with every fiber of my being - you have my undying
respect and gratitude.
But as I close out this
part of my memorial day tribute, I want to especially thank
and honor our police officers. You know, there's not a single
one of us that hasn't seen those flashing lights come up
behind our car and thought "oh no, not me - GO
away", myself included. And how many times have we all
been in a rush to get somewhere and are running late and curse
the police car that is on the highway behind us, keeping us
from being able to break the speed limit and actually get to
where you need to be on time? But how many of us actually take
the time to be deeply grateful that those brave men and women
are IN their patrol cars and out on the streets protecting us.
How many of us have taken the time to be grateful that these
people have chosen a career in law enforcement that not only
puts them in harm's way, but jeopardizes the quality of their
family's lives, should something tragic happen while they are
out there protecting us from the criminals that walk the
streets? Do we spend so much time worrying about our own
selfish need to speed without getting a ticket, or worrying
that the presence of a police officer will keep us from
bending the traffic rules a bit so we can get on with our busy
lives, without REALLY realizing who these brave people are and
why they are so vital to our way of life? We've all been
guilty of it. But I want all of you reading this to really
consider something. What would your city or your town be like
if there were no police officers protecting you? Would you be
safe to walk the streets? Would you be safe to go to work or
go to the store or go out to play your favorite sports? Would
you even be alive today, if those brave men and women weren't
out there each and every day fighting against the criminals
who have no respect for your life or your possessions? I ask
you this - how many of you have ever taken a moment to thank a
police officer for no other reason than to just let them know
how grateful you are for their protection? I know that I take
that chance whenever I think about it (and whenever I'm
certain that I'm not disrupting what the officer is doing),
but it's probably not enough; I am guilty of only thinking to
say a thank you about once a month or so, and there are
honestly plenty of opportunities beyond that to say something
to an officer who might be waiting in a grocery line with me
or coming out of a building, etc. And of course, we should all
be aware of the fact that there are right times and wrong
times to bother a police officer for something as simple as a
thank you; you'd never want to put an officer in harm's way
because you are pulling his focus off of something just to say
thank you.
But I really want you all
to think about it next time you see a police officer. That
human being in the uniform, wearing that badge, may be the
reason you are here today….they could have been instrumental
in taking a criminal off of the streets that could have robbed
you, or harmed you or yes, even killed you. They have families
at home who love them very much and count on them to come home
every night, yet there they are, out there in harm's way
protecting each and every one of us. These people (and, by
extension, their families) deserve our undying gratitude. And
so on this Memorial Day, I encourage you all to do something
positive, take the time to thank someone in law enforcement
(at an appropriate time, of course!). Or at the very least,
the next time you see that police car drive up behind you or
next to you, instead of cursing the cop who might give you a
ticket, hold those officers in your heart and be as thankful
as you can possibly be that they have chosen to be out there
protecting you and your loved ones. When we talk of living in
freedom, lets not EVER forget that it's not just the armed
forces and military that allow us to live in freedom, but it's
also our law enforcement officers that are out there each and
every day protecting us here on the homefront. And I, for one,
am eternally grateful to each and every one of them.
Sunday, March 25, 2003
Believe it or not, this
weekend is the 3 year anniversary of my move to Los Angeles. I
arrived here with a moving van full of everything I owned and
my two dogs on a blistering hot Memorial Day weekend three
years ago. I had corralled my poor sister and brother-in-law
into helping me move from the bay area down to Los Angeles,
where I was moving into a guest house in a Hollywood Hills
home. I didn't really know the owner very well, but my sister
knew him through her work, and it turned out to be a good
thing because he had this guest house to rent and it gave me
the opportunity to move into a pretty cool place in Los
Angeles. Well, the trip down here was not exactly a smooth
one. The plan was to leave mid-day on the Saturday before
Memorial Day, drive all day, get to LA and unload as much as
possible that night and then unload the rest on Sunday, and
then Katie and Chris would head back to the bay area on
Monday. The owner of the house had decided to have a barbecue
on Monday for Memorial Day and as a sort of welcome to LA
party for me, which I thought was pretty cool of him to do.
Now, let me mention here,
that I have moved a NUMBER of times. When you're an actor just
starting out in New York City, you never seem to stay in the
same place for long because you've always got roommates, and
it can take a few tries before you find a good fit with the
right people (translation: until you can learn to recognize
the freaks before you live with them!). And believe me, I ran
the gamut of crazy and nightmarish roommates when I was in
NYC! I tend to be really easy to live with and pretty
accommodating and adaptable when I live with other people -
I've always prided myself on having that good combination of
being social enough with my roommates, but also knowing where
the limits are and how to maintain a certain sense of privacy
even if you are living in the same place. I'm pretty low key
at home and love a home life with no drama or b.s., and I've
always put a lot of effort into trying to be respectful of the
people that I've lived with. So you'd think someone like me
would have it pretty easy in terms of finding good roommates.
But as they say, New York City has EVERYTHING - the good AND
the bad - and so I sort of became a magnet for every
psychopath and nutcase who needed a roommate. And because I'm
one of those people who wants to see the best in everyone, I
was always the last one to realize that I had moved in with
yet another nightmare whack-job! As I've gotten older, I've
realized that the whack-jobs out there tend to gravitate
towards people like me because we're the only ones who will
put up with their insanity. I'd like to think that I'm older
and smarter now…geez, I HOPE I am, at least! Haha
Ok, I'm WAY off track here.
The point was, that due to a series of living situations in
New York City where I realized I had moved in with Bloody
Mary, Attila the Hun and Genghis Khan (and a few of their
cousins!), I learned how to pack and move pretty quickly. I
don't know if that's a skill to be proud of necessarily, but
it's something I've done enough that I pretty much know how
long it'll take me to get ready to move. And so I was pretty
much on track going into that Memorial Day weekend three years
ago for this move to Los Angeles.
I had asked my
brother-in-law and my sister to get there somewhat early on
Saturday to help me do the last bit of loading into the truck
of the stuff I couldn't do myself. But when they got there,
they didn't think there was any way we'd be done early enough
to get to LA before it got dark. I totally disagreed with
them, of course, because I was determined to go that day, but
eventually they talked me into leaving on Sunday instead. But,
since I was chomping at the bit to get to Los Angeles, I was
bummed to have to put it off one more day (yeah, I know, I'm
not the most patient person on earth!). So when they left a
little while later and told me they'd be back the next morning
for the drive to LA, I was determined to prove them wrong
about how long it would take to finish packing the truck! I'm
such a stubborn S.O.B. that can't stand being told I can't do
something when I know that I can; so I always take things like
that as a challenge to prove that I'm right. Well, let me tell
you, I worked at breakneck speed and that truck was loaded and
locked within a couple of hours. And even though I really
could have taken my time and used the rest of the day since we
weren't leaving anyway, I had to prove my point. Told you I
was stubborn! And besides, I knew that if I actually TOOK the
rest of the day to pack and proved they were right, then I
wouldn't have heard the END of it from my sister AND the
family; because I knew she'd LOVE telling this story to the
family as another way to tease the heck out of me! Ok, truth
be told, even though I DID manage to get it all done in a
couple of hours and we COULD have left as planned, that's not
the story that gets told (and RE-told) in my family. THEY all
think it's VERY funny to talk about Katie and Chris arriving
to help me drive to LA, and finding my house still unpacked
and the truck half empty! Don't you just love it when your
family finds something to rib you about!!??!!
Ok, so anyway, we finally
did pull out of there on Sunday. Chris driving the moving
truck, Katie driving their Jeep, and me driving my Explorer
with the dogs in the back. We all had walkie talkies so we
could talk on the trip, so it was actually pretty fun for most
of the ride to LA. I was in front and leading the way,
followed by Chris in the truck and Katie bringing up the rear.
And I think they only had to remind me about 14 times to slow
down because the truck couldn't go as fast as I wanted to
drive! (Told you I was impatient!)
Well, when we got to the LA
area, we had originally planned on taking the 101 around
through Hollywood so that Chris wouldn't have to make any left
hand turns off of Sunset Boulevard to go up to the new house.
(That section of Sunset can be pretty bad to make a left off
of with a regular car, much less a moving truck.) But as we
came up to the 405 interchange, I made a split second decision
to take that instead because I realized that going through
Hollywood could potentially be a mess and very busy with
traffic on Memorial Day weekend, and the 405 would take us
around through Beverly Hills and probably be a lot easier and
quieter, even if it meant taking that left hand turn off of
Sunset. Well, I signaled what I was doing and tried to tell
them through the Walkie Talkie, but I guess there was some
interference on the frequency we were using. And because a few
cars had gotten in between us, Katie and Chris never saw my
signal and I turned off onto the other highway before they had
a chance to adjust and follow me. Now, at this point, I had
only a VERY limited knowledge of how LA was laid out, and
Katie and Chris had ZERO knowledge of the city. Well, without
boring you with the details, let's just say it took me about
an hour to find them again! Thank God for cell phones!!
When I did catch up with
them again, they were off of an exit in a pretty unsavory
neighborhood, it was a blistering hot day and had been a long
boring drive, so needless to say neither one of them was very
happy with me at that point. So off we went towards my new
place. But when we got there, we could barely park because
someone was having a party and if you've ever been up on those
streets in the Hollywood Hills, you'll know how narrow they
are and how much they weave and wind, and only a few cars can
block much of the street, much less all the cars for a huge
party! And getting the truck up the street I was going to be
living on was a nightmare, to say the least (that's why I let
Chris drive it! Haha). But after I parked and went in to get
the keys to the guest house, I found out, it wasn't just any
party - No, my new landlord had just randomly decided to move
the party up a day and have it on Sunday instead! I still
don't quite know why he did that, since he knew we wouldn't be
arriving until Sunday…but nevertheless, here we were with
two SUV's and a full size moving truck trying to unload
everything I own into a guest house at the same time a HUGE
party was going on.
Now, if you think there
were some bad moods before that point, you can only imagine
how much THIS helped! And I should be careful about how I say
this in case anyone who was there that day reads this, but
let's just suffice it to say that many of the types who go to
these big Hollywood Hills homes for parties have, shall we
say, a bit of an attitude? Ok, point blank, some of these
people were freaking idiots! I'll never forget our initial
welcome from this loud drunken obnoxious snob peering over one
of the balconies of the house looking down on us in the street
with total disgust and saying "what ARE you doing, WE are
having a PARTY here!" Oh, and this guy was NOT my new
landlord! I'd never even seen the guy before - he was just
some random guest at the party. Of course, Mr. Nice Guy (me),
says "Hi, I'm Henry! I'm just moving in! We just drove
down from the bay area", thinking I'll get some nice warm
"welcome to LA comment". But oh no - instead I get
"well WHY would you do that TODAY? It's a holiday and
we're having a party!". After which he stumbled back into
the house.
Now up until this point, I
had been telling my sister and her husband how great LA was
and how much I loved it here and couldn't wait to move here
and how great the people were, etc. And in one fell swoop,
that jackass knocked that whole theory flat! Needless to say,
most of the people going up to the party weren't much better.
Most of them gave us dirty looks because they had to walk
AROUND the moving truck! You know, God forbid the elite have
to take an extra 5 steps to get to their party!
So, yeah, unloading the
truck was pretty miserable (did I mention it was about 100
degrees and we were dripping with sweat in filthy jeans and
t-shirts in front of all of these people going in and out of
the party in their Prada and Gucci? You all thought I always
lived this glamorous life in LA, didn't you! haha). Anyway, as
I'm eternally the optimist, I didn't let it ruin my excitement
about finally getting to LA. But I will tell you all, if you
ever DO move to a city like Los Angeles in the middle of a
heatwave, I don't really recommend doing it in front of a
party filled with a bunch of Hollywood snobs who think the
only place that a person should be seen sweating is at some
exclusive high priced health spa! By the way, I've since found
out that those kinds of people are only one small element of
Los Angeles. The great people really are out here as well and
for every one of those idiots, there's another 20 that are
pretty great people. It's just that none of those people were
invited to that Memorial Day party! Haha
Anyway, that's my story of
where I was exactly three years ago. And I think back to that
day and look at where I am now and how far my life has come
and it pretty much amazes me. If you had told me that day what
would be in store for me over the next three years, I would
have WANTED to believe it, of course, but probably would have
been skeptical. There was never a question that I'd be coming
to LA to pursue my dreams and in fact, the move date was set a
few months prior to that, so coming here to do what I've done
was pretty much the plan. But this weekend, I'm thinking about
the twists and turns of life and how it all came together over
the years to lead me to where I am today. And it takes me back
to the month of May many years ago when I was first starting
out as an actor.
It was my first year in New
York City and my first big "New York City
Auditions". For anyone who is an actor, singer or dancer,
that's a pretty big step to leave behind whatever success
you've had in your home town and hit the big city. At that
point in my life, I was pretty fearless, actually. I jumped in
with both feet and hit the ground running. The details of my
first year in New York are something I'll have to save for a
later journal entry. But what I did want to talk about today,
is a decision that I had to make early on. As I said, it was
May, and I was (I think) 19 or 20 years old. And I was in New
York for my first set of auditions for summer stock (that's
what they call any number of summer theaters around the
country that come to New York to audition for their summer
seasons). I remember that I had 10 auditions set up that week
for 10 different summer theaters, and am proud to say that I
got offered a role in every show I auditioned for. (Hey, gotta
let me brag here and there every so often!!)
Well, of the 10, there were
two that were top of my list. One was a bit more prestigious
than the other, and they were offering me a really amazing
amount of money to play a leading role in one of their summer
shows, and the other one, although less prestigious, offered
me a chance to be in all 5 shows they did that summer - three
of which were dream shows for me to do. The only glitch was
that the pay was VERY low and I would have to re-audition once
I got there for each show because they would be bringing in a
new high profile director for each show. So taking that
contract wouldn't guarantee me any of the roles that I wanted
in those shows, but it WOULD allow me to work with some
Broadway directors and have the chance to snag any number of
roles throughout the summer that would be great on the resume.
But again, there was no guarantee that I'd get any of the
roles that I wanted - only that I would be in each show in
some capacity or other. So I was weighing a sure thing with
great money, against a more risky thing that could end up
being great but still would be very little money.
Well, everyone I knew in
NYC told me to take the first offer - with the guarantee of
playing the one lead role in a very prestigious theater for a
great salary. Yet, although all of the outward signs pointed
towards making that decision, my heart was pulled in the other
direction, toward the other job with no guarantees and very
little money. Now I'm sure this story seems relatively
unimportant since it was so long ago. Obviously I've moved way
beyond that first year in New York City and have built a cool
career and life for myself since then. But the truth of it is,
and what I didn't realize at the time, was that I was at a
very serious crossroads, and that the decision I would make
would affect the course of my life significantly. Everything
and everyone told me to go in one direction - yet my gut told
me otherwise. And in the end, I listened to my gut. I took the
job for little money at the theater where I'd have no
guarantees of playing any of the roles I wanted to play, and
just trusted that my talent would get me what I wanted and
that it would be the right thing in the long run. I even got a
pretty severe talking down to by the casting directors at the
other theater who told me how stupid my decision was to turn
down their offer for that other less prestigious theater
company. Even at the time, I remember wondering why in the
world I was making this decision that almost seemed like it
should have been a slam dunk in the other direction.
But in the end, SOMETHING
pulled me in that other direction. I didn't know what it was
at the time, but I can only believe that something was telling
me that the road to my life lead in that direction. And I
can't really go into chapter and verse for you guys here
because much of it is quite personal. But I will tell you that
I would not be where I am today if I had made a different
decision that May. I don't know exactly where I would be, of
course. But when I think back to where my life went as a
result of working there that summer, I realize how much would
not have happened if I had made a different choice. The people
I met there, in particular Kathy (who I've written about
numerous times on this site and most of you know who she is),
helped to shape my life and were instrumental in the direction
it ended up taking. I can tell you now, that if I had never
met Kathy that summer, I would not have ended up in California
when I did. Now, I'll be honest, my move to California was not
something Kathy made happen, there were a series of events
that took place that got me here, and put me up in the Bay
Area where I lived before I came down here to LA. But I can
honestly say that none of those events would have taken place
if I had not known Kathy.
It's amazing to think of
how much that is in my life right now and means SO much to me
wouldn't be here if I had made a different decision. I never
would have had the beautiful relationship I had with Kathy and
the deep and enduring friendship that followed it (and
continues through to this day); I never would have known her
husband Donald who is now like the brother I always wanted to
have; Kathy, in fact, would have never met Donald, because I
was the one who told her how to get a job in the law firm
where she met him in the first place - she would have never
known about a job like that if I hadn't been there to tell her
about it…and if they had never met, then the baby girl they
just had would never have been born. Without knowing Kathy, I
would have never ended up in California, which means I never
would have met Joe Barnett who worked with me to arrange all
of those amazing big band and broadway recordings that are now
up on the site, and that I hope to release soon. If I had made
a different decision that May, I wouldn't now have those
beautiful recordings that I am so proud of and that I consider
my best work to date. And if I had not ended up in northern
California where and when I did, I would never have met Matt
Davis who wrote so much of that amazing music on the
"Fall Over You" CD; in fact not only that, but Matt,
who is also like a brother to me, wouldn't even be in my life,
which is something I can't imagine.
And, of course, if I hadn't
made that decision to take that job, it would have inevitably
meant that I wouldn't have ended up in California when I did…which
means that I might not have moved here to Los Angeles to
record and promote the "Fall Over You" CD, which has
lead me to all of you that are reading this now. I shudder
when I think of what that one monumental decision could have
cost me if I had gone the other way with it. Maybe it would
have lead to an equally extraordinary life, who knows. I tend
to be a go-getter and I doubt I'd be any less successful if I
had taken a different path. But there are things and people in
my life now that are a direct result from making that one
decision, and I can't imagine my life without those things or
those people. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't have my dog
Duke, because finding him abandoned on the street as a puppy
was again, a direct result of knowing (yep, you guessed it),
Kathy.
Amazing, isn't it? And so
as I sit here THIS Memorial Day weekend, honoring all that
this day is supposed to be about, I also can't help but be
extraordinarily grateful that my life took the path that it
did, which lead me to where I am today. Because I wouldn't
change a thing. I love where I am and the people that are in
my life today. I wouldn't trade any of that for the world.
Happy Memorial Day
everyone. And please remember to show your gratitude and
appreciation and to honor ALL of those brave men and women who
are instrumental in allowing us the ability to live safe and
secure lives as Americans - our armed services, our
firefighters and especially our law enforcement officers. May
God bless all of you.
Sunday, May 11, 2003
Mother's Day. You know, I
really love Mother's Day. With all of my joking about
"Hallmark Holidays", I really feel that this one is
a very special one. Obviously, without mothers, none of us
would be here, right? And you've all heard me say this on a
number of occasions, but once a year is not enough to
celebrate the relationships and the love that we have with
these people in our lives…these people who mean so much to
us. Whether it's birthdays, mothers day, fathers day,
grandparents day, valentines day, etc. The special people in
your life are more significant than on just one day of the
year when we're told to celebrate them.
But on the other hand, how
cool that we DO have a day that is set aside to remind us of
how special and important our mothers are to us. I myself have
been SO lucky to have gotten one of the best mothers around!
Of course, I'm biased, but even people who aren't in my family
have all told me that my mother is pretty much one in a
million. It's from my mother that I got my compassion, my big
and open heart, my appreciation of the small things, my
sensitivity, my trusting heart and my great capacity to love.
I'm sure that list could go on for another hundred words, but
those are the things that stick out most significantly to me.
Those are all aspects of my personality that mean so much to
me and have defined who I am as a person. And that all came
from my mother. I've always said that if I could be half as
kind as my mother is, then I'd be an extraordinary person. I
don't know that I will ever be as good a person as she is, but
it's definitely something to strive for as I move through my
own life. My mother also gives me something else - a security
and a feeling of safety. For some people that might not mean
much, but for me, it's essential. I don't know how to really
describe it. I'm completely self sufficient and I am fully
capable of taking care of myself and do so with great pride.
But there's something about my mom that is so special, that
when I'm talking to her, it's like nothing could be wrong in
the world. I guess everyone has varying levels of
vulnerability - some mask it well, others wear it on their
sleeves - but I think no matter how old you get, you need a
person or two in your life who makes you feel safe and less
vulnerable. I am so thankful that one of those people in my
life is my mother, who is there to give me that when I need
it.
On this Mother's Day,
though, I wanted to talk about more than just my mother. I am
so lucky to not only have that wonderful woman in my life to
call "Mom", but I've also been lucky throughout my
life to have a few surrogate mom's as well. And I think this
is the perfect day to tell you about those other wonderful
women.
In my family, we
traditionally send Mother's Day cards to our grandmothers as
well. My father's mother has sadly passed away, and so I no
longer send her cards or call her on Mother's Day. But my
other grandmother is very much alive and I always really look
forward to picking out her mother's day card and writing
something really special in it. I guess I've made her cry a
few times with what I've written, but I'm sure that doesn't
surprise any of you who have read enough of my journal entries
to know that I don't hold much back in terms of telling people
how special they are to me. (I really DO practice what I
preach! At least whenever possible….not everyone in my life
is used to my being so open about my feelings for them….so I
have to learn to temper it a bit with certain people…..but
even those people get stuck hearing it now and then too,
whether they like it or not!)
Anyway, it would probably
be more appropriate to write about my grandmother on
"Grandparents" day because she has always been the
ultimate "grandma" - as opposed to some families
where the grandmothers often take over the "mother"
role. In our family, the roles are all pretty traditionally
defined. But since we do have a tradition of wishing a Happy
Mother's day to the grandmothers as well as the mothers, my
Grandmother Ewell is the first lady (after my mother, I mean)
that I wanted to talk about in this journal entry. In her own
right, she's been an incredible mother. She raised three
amazing kids, my Mom, my uncle Leigh and my aunt Diane - who
have gone on to raise some great kids of their own. But she
really is the matriarch of our family. She's the glue that
holds it all together. It would take me a whole book to talk
about the amazing memories that I have of her, and at some
point I will devote an entire journal entry to her. On this
Mother's Day, though, I was so glad to be able to plan a
surprise trip back home so that I could spend it with her and
with my mom. Only my sister knew I was coming into town and so
I got to surprise both of them when I showed up here last
Thursday! My mom was sort of shocked at first, but then
admitted she hoped that I might surprise her, but never
expected I really would. But my poor grandmother was SO
surprised that she figured I had to be someone else who just
looked like her grandson. As many of you know, we lost my
grandfather Ewell this past Christmas, and due to a ridiculous
schedule here in LA, I haven't been able to travel back to see
her since he passed away. And as the firstborn grandchild, I
really needed to get back there and spend some significant
time with her. So that's what this trip home was really all
about.
Now my grandmother is one
of those world-famous gardeners (well, ok, not exactly world
famous, but she's won all sorts of awards and recognition for
her gardens and her landscaping that always looks more like a
piece of art than someone's yard!). So I knew when I packed to
go home that I needed to take along my workboots and some old
clothes because I knew she'd put me to work outside. You know,
it's funny, when I was a kid, the last thing I ever wanted to
do was to help in the yard and have anything to do with
planting anything. But as I've gotten older, I've found out
that I actually really love working outside. And since I don't
have a yard right now to work in, it felt so good to get out
and work in my grandmother's yard. It's hard work, of course,
but there is also something really therapeutic about working
in the soil. So I had a great time out there in my workboots
and my shorts digging and planting and moving rocks and
helping her to get the heavy stuff done that she can't do on
her own. And it really made me miss living in a house with a
yard of my own that I can work in every week. Something to
look forward to for the future, I guess.
So my grandmother and I had
such a great time this week working in the yard and then she
showed me all of these scrapbooks that she had put together of
my our lives and her life and of my grandfather's life. It was
pretty amazing seeing all of those things - some for the first
time, like his grade school pictures and stuff like that. And
I'm the world's most captive audience when it comes to looking
at family pictures or vacation pictures, or scrap-books, etc.
I know most people dread that kind of thing - but I love it
and could sit for hours looking at pictures and mementos and
hearing the stories that are to be told. Which, I guess, is a
good thing, since I tend to tell a few long stories myself,
huh? Haha So anyway, we got to do a lot of that kind of thing,
which was very cool. But I think the best part of the week so
far was when I took her for a night out - just the two of us!
A show that I love (Rags) was playing in town, and so I was
able to get two tickets right in the front row center (it
helps having the theater owners know you!), and before that we
went out to this amazing Italian restaurant for a delicious
dinner. I know it meant a lot to both of us to have this time
together. And for me, I couldn't imagine a better way to
celebrate Mother's Day weekend than to be with her (and my own
mom too, of course!).
All throughout my
childhood, she and I had spent countless hours together, just
the two of us. I wasn't the kind of kid you left alone,
otherwise they'd never know what they might find once they got
back to that room! So whenever I would stay with her as a kid,
she needed to have me by her side just so I wouldn't get into
stuff. We had a chance to laugh about some of those times and
to look back at all of the torture I put her through. Her
favorite story, which I'll share with you before I move onto
the next part of this journal entry, happened right after she
and my grandfather had bought a brand new mattress for their
bed. I couldn't have been more than about 3 at the time, and
was staying with them. Well, I was sort of a handful as a kid
because I had non-stop energy and as they tell me "was
always busy with SOMETHING". They said I was never a bad
kid, but just way too busy, so they had to keep an eye on me
at all times. Well, this one afternoon, I guess I had
completely worn her out and she needed a nap. I was not an
easy kid to get to nap, though. Unlike my sister, who you
could put down into her bed and leave her for hours and
wouldn't make a peep and would sleep there soundly until
someone woke her up….I, on the other hand, had to be coaxed
into shutting my eyes and then watched like a hawk to be sure
I was really sleeping and not just faking it til I thought the
coast was clear.
So on this particular day,
I guess I had completely worn her out by early afternoon and
she knew the only way she'd get a nap was to make me take a
nap in her bed at the same time. I don't remember any of this,
but the story goes that after she fell sound to sleep, I
managed to find a bottle of perfume oil that my other
grandmother had sent to her from a recent trip to Egypt. My
other grandmother was always sending exotic things from her
trips and I guess this perfume oil was heavy and concentrated
and just about the WORST smelling stuff that had ever been put
into a bottle. But it was a gift and I guess the bottle was
interesting, so Grandma had put it onto her dressing table
with her other perfumes as sort of a decoration - but
certainly NEVER to be worn! From what I heard, even opening
the bottle on that stuff could kill off a herd of wild boars!
Well, you can see this one coming, right? Grandma's sound to
sleep on her brand new mattress, little Henry is WIDE awake
and looking for something to do….and there's this cool
looking bottle on the dressing table what was just low enough
for a 3 year old to reach onto. So I guess I apparently took
the bottle and got back onto the bed and pushed all of the
sheets and blankets back so I could play with this bottle. And
Grandma says all she remembers is being woken up from a sound
sleep by this God-awful smell, and as she started to get her
bearings she saw me turn the bottle upside down and pour the
ENTIRE bottle of this perfume oil ALL over the bed. Of course,
since I had pushed the sheets and blankets back, the stuff
immediately seeped through the bottom sheet and RIGHT into
their new mattress!! As Grandma has said a million times since
then "it COULD have been something nice, like my Channel
#5, but NO - you had to pick up the awful Egyptian Oil!"
I guess it was years before they could get the smell out of
that mattress and if I remember correctly they ended up having
to swap it out for an older mattress on one of the other beds
just so they could actually sleep at night! Apparently the
stuff was THAT bad!
Well, there's a lot more
great stories to tell about Grandma Ewell, but I think I'll
leave it at that for now. She's an amazing lady and gave me
the chance to know what it was like to have the quintessential
"grandma". And as I celebrate Mother's Day, she is
very much in my heart…and what is cool is that she's not
just in my heart this Mother's Day weekend - she's right there
in the other room! (And she's making me her famous Goulash,
which is my absolute FAVORITE thing that she makes! Yum!)
As I mentioned before, I
also have had some surrogate mothers over the years. These are
wonderful women who have taken me under their wings and made
me feel as much a part of their families as their own kids.
When I was in Northern California all of those years, it was
Lucia. Lucia was the mother of an ex of mine, who I actually
became quite close to and remained close to even after the
relationship broke up. When I lived up in the bay area (and
before my sister and brother-in-law eventually moved out
there) it was the first time that I had ever been that far
away from home for that long of a time. The first couple of
years were sort of lean financially, and during those first
two Christmas's, I couldn't really afford to be away from work
during Christmas week (that was back when I worked in an
office and Christmas vacation meant ½ day off on Christmas
Eve and whole day off on Christmas day off, then back to work
the day after that!). And Lucia who also lived up in the bay
area made me a part of their family Christmas and treated me
like one of her own kids, and not like a stranger. After the
breakup, we stayed very close and built a very strong
friendship that is still strong to this day. We both found
that we loved to go swing dancing, and so we started to go
dancing together during that last year and half that I was
living up there. We had such a great time together - whether
we were out on the town or just sitting at home talking until
the middle of the night. So on this mother's day, I'd be
remiss if I didn't thank Lucia for being one of my surrogate
Mom's! She's a great lady, a brilliant artist, an
extraordinary mother and a good friend.
When I moved down here to
Los Angeles, I met a new friend who has since become one of my
best friends. And her mom, Marion, has become my surrogate LA
mom. Just like Lucia, she always thinks to include me in
family dinners and holidays when I'm here in town and not with
my own family. And she never makes me feel like a guest, but
as a member of the family. Marion is just one of those
wonderful people who you feel like you've known your whole
life. Remember that "safe and secure" thing I was
talking about feeling with my own Mom? Marion's got that
quality too. When I'm at her house and we're sitting on the
floor talking, or in the kitchen talking, you just feel like
nothing could be wrong in the world when you're around Marion.
She's got an amazing sense of humor and even with three kids
of her own who all have VERY different personalities, who are
all married to people who equally have very different
personalities, she manages to be actively involved with each
one almost at the same time. It's pretty amazing to watch. She
(and her husband, of course) have made me feel like I've been
a part of the family forever and because family and home means
SO much to me, and being SO far away from my own family, it
really has meant a great deal to me to have that to lean on
here in LA. As a matter of fact, because I couldn't get home
for Christmas this year, I was with them on Christmas Eve, at
the same time my grandfather was passing away. As much as I
wished I could have been with my family during that sad night,
it was very comforting to me to know that I had been with
Marion and her family at the time my grandfather died. And I
know that it must have meant a lot to him to know that I was
with people who loved me that night as well. I thank Marion
for making me part of her family out here in LA and I wish her
the very best Mother's Day ever.
I love living here in Los
Angeles, but one thing I know about myself is that I don't do
well without having some sort of "family" base in
the city that I'm living in. Ultimately, that family base
would be with someone I'm building a life with, but until that
happens, I've been lucky to have found it in Northern
California with Lucia and now again down in Southern
California with Marion and I'm eternally grateful to those two
women for giving me that. You know, I've always told you guys,
family is what you make it. It doesn't always have to be the
people you are related to. And as I've found out, certain
people come into your life and they become part of your
family. And for me, I need that security of knowing that
"family" of some kind is close by and there for me.
As I close out this
Mother's Day journal entry, I saved the most significant and
special surrogate mom for last - Jan. Not to take away from
either Lucia or Marion, this lady came into my life when I was
a teenager. And after her own son tragically passed away, we
were forever bonded and became family. I could never take the
place of her son, of course, who was a very special person and
will always be greatly missed. But Jan was someone who was
always meant to be a mom, and since my teenage years both my
own mother and I have always said that I have two moms - her
and Jan. I remember the first time that I met Jan. I was a
dancer in a show called "Girl Crazy". And one day in
the first stage of rehearsals, this little blonde lady came up
to me and said "hi, I'm Jan - and the ladies in the back
row of the chorus all love watching you dance" and then
she gave me a jar of homemade strawberry jam with the perfect
red and white checkerboard material over the top and tied with
a red ribbon (my first experience with what I'd come to find
out is Jan's trademark: theme presentations). I've always been
someone who is really touched by acts of kindness and it meant
the world to me that this sweet lady had even bothered to say
something about my dancing, much less brought me some homemade
jam! We were instant friends. What began that day would lead
us to years and years of friendship and becoming part of each
other's extended family. I think everyone has a friend in
their life that they go on adventures with - and Jan is that
person for me. There's nothing she won't do or at least try,
and believe me, I've pushed the envelope on many things I
don't think she otherwise would have experienced! It's always
fun when she and I travel together because people assume we
are either mother and son, or that I'm some gigolo! And you
KNOW I love to play up that second possibility just to make
eyebrows raise and confuse people! I remember once, when she
was helping me move to a new place, we kept going across the
street to get more empty boxes at the convenience store. At
one point, the owner said to me "Oh, you're the guy who's
moving? Your mother has been in a few times to get boxes
too", to which I responded "My MOTHER?!?! THAT is my
FIANCE!" Jan always loves when I drop things like that
into the conversation. I took her to Toronto once for New
Years eve and we went to a huge dinner dance thing at this old
hotel and basically danced all night long. Jan loves to dance
and I love nothing more than showing Jan the most fun I can
muster up. Well, on the way back up to the room, an older
distinguished couple said "Oh, you two were quite
something on the dance floor, we just loved watching you
dance. So are you two….um…well…um….mother and
son?" I let them mutter and squirm on that for a while
until the elevator stopped at our floor and I glanced back on
the way out of the elevator as I put my arm around Jan and
said "Nope, she's not my mother, we're a couple!".
We laughed for hours over the shocked looks on their faces!
Now I don't think Jan would ever pull a stunt like that in a
million years on her own, but I love getting a good reaction
from people and pushing the buttons. And I think it entertains
her when I do it! At least it entertains ME! haha
Anyway, on a deeper level,
I have to admit, it always bothers me that people have this
great need to "figure it out" when we're together.
It's like they can't fathom the possibility that she and I
could just be very close friends considering the huge age
difference. And as I mentioned earlier, it's a lot more than
friendship. She really is my second Mom, and I really am her
surrogate son. And the fact that we have such a great time
together makes her one of the most special people in my life.
And one of my favorite things to do is to plan these really
special trips or events with Jan to give her memories she can
take with her throughout her lifetime. I know it can't be easy
to lose your only child, and I can never ever fill that void,
but until one of us takes that last breath, I will do whatever
I can to give this incredible lady as many great times as I
can manage to come up with. And lucky for me, she lives right
down the street from my parents, so I get to see HER this
weekend too!! As a matter of fact, I'll be going with her to
her church this morning - for the Mother's Day service. Hmm…think
I should behave myself there since it's her family church? Or
should I lay it on thick and make all of her fellow
parishioners think she's got herself some young guy that she's
with now? Hahaha…..actually, I know that she talks about me
all the time and tells everyone she knows about her
"other son", Henry. So I'm sure that most of the
people that know her in that congregation will know exactly
who I am once I'm introduced. Anyway, no Mother's Day journal
entry would be complete without talking about Jan. And one of
these days I'll have to devote a whole journal entry to
telling you about some of our very fun adventures, like the
time I took her for a rowboat ride in Central Park and without
realizing it, rowed her up to see some pervert hiding under a
footbridge (I'm purposely leaving OUT the details!)… or the
time we were late to see a show we had tickets to and had to
change in the car, which would have been fine if she hadn't
managed to knock over the thermos of lemonade into her shoes
(which is now referred to as the Lemonade Shoes day)…. or
the time I took a corner too fast in Niagara Falls and almost
turned her car on its side…or the first time she spent the
night after I had gotten Duke and he slept on her legs all
night and she was too terrified to move and never fell asleep
because he was so big and she thought he'd bite her if she
bothered him (took me the whole next day to get her to admit
why she was SO tired and couldn't keep her eyes open!)…or
the time she broke her foot running for her plane to NYC to
see me and never told me about it and I had planned WALKING
tours of the Met and the Cloisters botanical garden that day
and she never let on that she was in such massive pain because
she didn't want to ruin my plans…..or the time we went to
see Cats and had managed to drink a little too much wine at
dinner and were not exactly sober as we sat there in the
theater waiting for the show to start, and for anyone who has
ever seen Cats, the cast comes out into the audience with
these light up glasses that they turn on right after the
lights go down and sort of surprise you because you don't know
they are there (of course, Jan was on the aisle and that
damned "cat" scared the hell out of her and I think
her scream was louder than the orchestra! Scared the tail off
that stupid "cat" too! Haha)…..or maybe I'll even
tell you about the time she took me out to Fire Island to see
the "family" beach she used to go to when she was a
student teacher years and years ago, and we got there and
found out it was NOW a NUDE beach! Poor Jan…I've never seen
anyone's eyes get SO big or anyone's jaw drop SO low! Haha And
before we left she had told us that "there are all of
these little tents on the beach where you can change" -
and course, they were all gone and since it was a nude beach,
everyone was just changing right out there in public. And
after much coaxing I finally convinced her that if she WAS
going to sit in the sun in a bathing suit, she'd have to
change right there on the beach. It took two of us to hold the
towels up and around her to give her enough room (and privacy)
to change, but til this day she loves telling people how she
went to the nude beach and changed her clothes right there on
the beach. Anyway, the stories go on and on….
So let's just suffice it to
say that there are a number of great women in my life that fit
into the category of "mother". And on this very
special day, I honor all of them and thank them all from the
very bottom of my heart for all that they have been to me and
continue to be in my life. (And before I close this out, just
in case I don't ever figure out when "Aunt's Day"
is, there is one other lady that is every bit as significant
to me as everyone I've talked about here today - and that is
Aunt Diane, my mother's sister. But SHE is going to need at
least four journal entries all to herself to even give you a
HINT of an idea about this very fun and incredible lady!).
I hope you all have a
wonderful mother's day. And whether you are with your own
mother's or not, or whether there are other significant people
in your life that have been surrogate mothers to you, I hope
you will take the time to tell them how much you love them and
just how important they are to you. And if you happen to read
this AFTER Mother's Day, then don't wait until next MAY to say
something - because, after all, ANY day can be Mother's Day if
you ask me.
Much love to all of you!
Henry
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