but everything we do is related

She is not my sister.  However, my dad once said that she looks a lot like his other daughter outside of me.  I haven’t seen her in person in over three years.  However, this hasn’t ever stopped our communication.

We do not text unless she’s sending me a picture of her two children.  We pick up the phone and call and we both know the importance of sustaining a strong friendship.  We have never taken the other for granted.

She is my person that knows me the best.  She knows by background, my fears, my insecurities, my greatest super power, my favorite color, my love of copper, my battles with family, my joy of animals, my desires reaching from my gut…she knows who and why Danny is important to me and Peter as well.  I call her when I struggle with anything.  I call her when I celebrate the wonderful.

She is married and has two sometimes over zealous children but it never keeps her from picking up the phone to call me.  Her life is rich with love but her love for me has never stopped.  She is my dearest, kindest and strongest friend which whom I admire wholeheartedly.

Kerry and I met umpteen years ago at a summer acting school in Pasadena, California.  We were there for six weeks, I believe.  We quickly bonded over the fact that we weren’t there to make friends and that we were both living in the most un-ideal situations.  I lived around an hour commute from the school in Encino with Janette and Howard.  This couple in their late 60’s was arranged by my father’s appliance connections.  I think they wanted to look good in my dad’s eyes so they opened their door to me….and their beat up 1970’s tan and brown mini pick up truck which I used as my transportation.  Being that I was from Mississippi, my classmates naturally assumed it was mine.  Kerry and I endured my intense Valley summer heat in that damn thing with it’s broken air conditioner and manual roll down windows.   Oh, and I named it Fred.  Kerry though had it much much worse.  She arrived at the school from driving from Arizona with no place to live.  The school had a bulletin board where she found a posting “Free Living for care of my Mother”.  And she took it.  So, while our classmates were going to Sunset Blvd and seeing where River Phoenix died, Kerry and I were either putsin’ along in Fred or bathing Mary.  Mary was the mother of…oh my god…what was his name?? Darren maybe? Let’s just go with that and will edit later.  Darren was a reflexologist living with his mother who was close to the age of 90 and Darren teetering close to 70 years old.  Kerry one time allowed Darren to do reflexology on her feet.  After about ten minutes of him poking around, he abruptly announced, “somebody is on their period!”  Kerry wanted to die.

After doing monologues and singing solos and learning how to spot while clumsily turning in black leotards, Kerry came and visited me in Mississippi for Thanksgiving with my family.  I still have such a vivid memory of seeing her walking off the plane.  She had on her black shoes and somewhat danced towards me, smiling that joyous grin of her.

My dad taught her to play one-bounce in my front yard on Grand Blvd.  It was a game he had invented as a little boy and if you were close to my family…you would have played one-bounce.  Buck Rideout played one time as well…he was just awful.  But Kerry…well, Kerry was one-bounce champion!!  She even beat my dad and he couldn’t believe it.

Kerry and I both ended up moving to Los Angeles for good.  We lived together with our other roommate, Lisa in San Gabriel and then later in Burbank.  She met her now husband, Mark at an acting class we both took.  He was (and still is) a structural engineer but wanted to explore his creative side of his brain.  To this day, Kerry and I can both imitate him doing his monologue.  It was more than a tad terrible.  Ha, ohhhhh, but nobody cared because he was just so good looking.  And that very handsome man married her.

But before the real thing caught her eye…Kerry and I double dated.  Ugh.  what losers!  She was a cocktail waitress at the famous stand-up comedy house, The Ice House while I wore a red and white striped dress with saddle shoes to be hostess at Ruby’s Dinner.  Oh, my god, we were so young.

We sent out mailings together to casting directors and agents.  One would sit on her bed while the other (who wasn’t making the call) would cover their face with a pillow and cringe while the latter would ask the agent’s assistant if they had received her headshot in the mail.  We used to care so much about doing it right.

Los Angeles is this massive huge place.  She moved out to live on her own and I moved to West Hollywood to live with Casey…which whom I lived with in Ct before she moved to Sweden close to three years ago.  I didn’t live with Casey long in West Hollywood being that she moved to Santa Monica and then two gay guys then moved in with me.  One I went to high school with and the other who recently came runner up or won on the show “Dance Your Ass Off”.  Back in the day, he was a big boy.  Living with two guys and one bathroom was exhausting so I moved to the Miracle Mile area…where Kerry lived only one street away.  My remaining years in LA consisted of the two of us taking walks…mostly to IHop but still…we were walking a good mile there and back.

Kerry supported me when I went back and finished my degree and even when I went to get a colonic.  Hopefully her now, four year old won’t remember it.

I was there the day her first was born.  Seeing her with her son was so beautiful.  She is the mother I strive to one day be…she is balanced and so fiercely loving.  She sets boundaries and her children know what lines not to cross.  She so very much inspires me.  Each week, they have a family meeting.  She and her husband set time apart from their lives to talk about their family and personal goals and how to elevate to greatness.

I love you, Kerry.  You are my person that I hold so dear.  Thank you for being there for me, always.  And without a doubt, I will always be there for you.

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  1. Sweet memories. I would love to see you driving Fred!

  2. Kerry

     /  August 25, 2013

    My children and husband are still wondering why I’ve been crying for the last hour. Thank you. I don’t think you know how much I needed to hear this. And since I don’t want my comment to be a blog post I will simply say “ditto.”

    Just a couple of extras:
    Fred only had an AM radio.

    Warren was his name and the reason he needed someone to take care of his mother, Helen was because he had a “girlfriend” who he went to visit every weekend. He once told me “why buy the cow when you get the milk for free.” So, this nearly 70 year old man was out getting some every weekend while I spent every weekend being a nursemaid to his mother.

    I’m almost positive I have a picture of you in Fred. I’ve got to find it!

    Ah, sweet memories.

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