ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF
THE OTHER
Life in Los Angeles
In early 2003, my family made a hasty decision to move from our beloved hometown of Petaluma, California down to what feels like the antithesis of wine country, lovely, lovely, well not so lovely Los Angeles. We hung onto our wine-country condo with the notion that returning was somehow inevitable. Sonoma County had felt like home to all of us. But our world was about to be turned upside down and we have learned to be at peace in our so cal abode.
It is hard to know just how much detail is appropriate to discuss in this context. Leaving out the gruesome details, I can summarize by saying I have seen hell and no matter how bad a day I may have today, all I have to think about is what it was like two and a half years ago and I can bathe in that cascade of gratitude. Following an old injury to my neck via a martial arts tournament, I underwent what was supposed to be a less invasive disc surgery to relieve my pain. But what actually occurred is truly unimaginable. Damage to my brainstem and the integrity of my spinal canal by the surgeon, led to five additional corrective surgeries. I now have enough metal in my body to double for the bionic woman and for the remainder of my years will manage fierce pain due to nerve and tissue damage. I am really just a walking statistic now, one of seventy-five million pain sufferers in the United States alone.
A N D, thank God, there is ever so much more to me than pain. I have mastered a rather brilliant system of living that enables me to position the discomfort in the back of my mind rather than in the forefront. Otherwise, if left to its own devices, the pain threatens to destroy my dreams, snatching them away one day at a time. This kind of mind-training takes months if not years of practice and I have to say, is one of my largest accomplishments.
Family
Predating my career as a fine artist, I have maintained the unequatable position of ‘mommie.’ I have the privelege of raising two amazing, gorgeous girls, beautiful on the inside and out. Lillian Grove is my oldest, now thirteen, teen, so ordinary in many ways and incredibly unique in others. She continues to surprise and elate both Peter and I with her sheer enthusiasm and joy for living. She is bright and entirely self-motivated, one of only nineteen children in her grade to receive straight ‘A’s. Lilli has also developed into a formidable athlete in her own right and this year after four years of cheering for the local rec football team, she joins Victory Cheer Company in Pasadena where she continues her training and will compete year round in this growing, incredibly rigorous and ultra-entertaining sport that combines tumbling, acrobatics and dance.
Often, because of my physical challenges, I need help around the house, and sometimes it just plain puts me in a dark space. Lilli has shown enormous courage and a growing maturity around my illness. Most importantly, from my perspective, she is compassionate and empathetic not only with me, but with others as well. I of course feel terribly that she has had to endure so much difficulty at such a young age, but I am incredibly proud of her at the same time and moreover, just grateful to have her by my side. They say it isn't wise to develop a 'friendship' with your children. I beg to differ on that subject. Lillian has and will forever be one of my favorite people, not simply because she is my daughter, but because of who she is, how brave she remains and how big her heart is.
Lillian’s little sister, Ruby Rose, was born two years ago. Ruby’s birth has been a true godsend in many many ways. Peter and I are well-versed in the personal sacrifices of child rearing, so unlike our first-time experience with Lil, we walked into this opportunity to be parents again with eyes wide open.
Ruby was a much more mellow baby than Lillian was. Although she enjoys outings at the park, to the waterpark or wherever our days might take us, she is also much of a homebody and loves her time at home, listening and dancing to music, watching cartoons and just scooting around the house, preferably naked. Ruby is an absolutely blow-you-away gorgeous child and has an almost unreal ‘doll-like’ appearance that literally stops people in their tracks so our outings together are rather entertaining.
I'd be lying if I said it's all been easy. Re-entering the begining phases of raising a child at the age of 41, and an injured 41 at that, has presented overwhelming challenges. And the experience has definitely fast-forwarded my own aging clock, which, appearance-wise is always difficult for women, but secondarily, my joints --knees, back, neck, you name it have taken a hearty beating as I manage my way through the very physical job of mothering my little one. What a lovely little spirit she is though, extremely sensitive and opinionated, very bright, and funny as can be. I know it is a privelege, raising children, and as difficult as all of it is, I rarely take for granted the gift of spending time with one or both of my girls. That kind of love, that type of connection is rare and unequalled in any other part of my life.
