BASALT- OCTOBER 13, 2007
Dad asked me to keep it light and not to swear. I have a feeling I am going to fail at both
How does one speak about my mother?
Where do you even begin?
A friend of ours came over the morning after mom passed and thru tears she said “god, she was just so special, and I know that that’s what people say about everyone, but it’s just not true about everyone”
And mom was special. She was a different kind of mom. But I suppose all of you know this because mom was, in many ways, a mother to just about everyone in this room.
Whether it was taking care of you when you were hung over after a night on the railroad tracks, or cooking for you, or helping you decorate your first or your 20th apartment, or sending you Christmas jams, or taking you in on a holiday when you were an orphan, or just simply listening to you in that extra special quiet way only she had. There was always a seat at moms table.
Mom and Dad’s house was a HOME, to more than just the 4 of us. It was home to hundreds of us. And it was this very thing- this ability to bring you in, and disarm you with her humor, and strength and balls out honesty- that was what brought you home. And I think it's the reason there are so many of us here today. I think it is why this room is packed. My mother always welcomed in a stranger. We have, over the years become some kind of tribe, and mom was always the first to welcome “the new guy,” and greet them into our well established world. And she did so with such kindness. Having no obligation to do so, she took so many people under her wing and cared for them without hesitation. And when you had a problem she listened carefully, examined cautiously, tendered her decision and then gave you her opinion, whether you were ready for it or not. She made no apologies for being honest, or blunt or being right, and she often was right. Fuck man, she always was.
Which was a hard thing for a daughter. Mom always being right, when I wanted to wear shorts in the winter, she told me I shouldn't and she was right. She didn't stop me, and when I froze my ass off on the way to school damn if I didn't know she was right. She guided us gracefully to find our own way- steering, shaping, nurturing us along. Always with a watch full eye so if we really blew it she would be there, to pick you up, like a toy train and place you gently back on track. And if you were really a mess, she might give you a little shove to get you moving again.
I know very few people who can say that their mother is as close to their friends as they are- but my mom was: Look at Emily and Zoë, at Damaris, at Shoni, at Mimi, at Jamie, these are some of my all time closest friends, and mom somehow had a way of creating a totally separate, totally important and substantial relationship with all of them. Friendship knew no age with mom.
Probably because Mom was insane- she was totally nuts. And we loved and admired her for it.
Like the time she Pooped in a napkin at a restaurant and brought it to the table on a dare.
Or the time the a guy was mean to her friends so she went into his bathroom and peed in his Listerine bottle and then put it back on the counter.
Or, the classic- the time my mom pooped in the cat box and then asked dad to clean it out. And stood howling with Lois from the window and watched him ponder and ask… uh, I think the cat might need to go to the vet???
she was a prankster, and a hooligan and a charmer and a genius.
mom had her own vocabulary too- Claudettesse. This was reserved mostly for her animals, but we too got to share in the madness
avandazias- meant tantrum.
squinty lentil noodles is the face a cat makes when he is loving you so
muckles- the squeezable bit of cheek on a dog
hurtzocovina- that was pain
loginitas- that was poop
Tony Lopez -that was peeing your pants
and bacabas- that was the sound a milkshake makes in a glass when you tap the bottom just right
ah, I’m gonna miss that.
there is a lot to consider when considering the great force that was Claudette Carter- the mom, the friend, the cook, the decorator, the business woman, the real estate tycoon, the wife, my fathers girlfriend and the great love of his life.
of all thing she taught me- and the lessons were many, I think I take from her- her love of the irreverent and her total respect for the game of life. She was a an expert at knowing the rules and taking total delight in finding the classiest way to brake them.
And I am just so grateful to have had these precious last few months, to have been with her in health and finally in sickness. Even at the end she was still classy, graceful, elegant, present, noble, proud, powerful and irreverent. She taught us how to live BETTER And in the end, she even taught me how to die.
In the end, all we have is love, and she left us with a lot of that. There was always a place at her table for all of us, and now we leave one for her at ours.
Her absence will be an enormous presence.
LOS ANGELES- NOV 3RD 2007
I got an email the other day- from a good friend of ours who wasn’t able to make it here today. And his sentiment summed up for me something I have been feeling about mom and hadn’t been able to articulate for some time- and that is this:
“Claudette was so very good to me! I don't think anyone has been that kind to me since my mother -- in fact, strangely enough, although she was younger than I, I thought of her sometimes "in loco parentis" meaning "Claudette will know what to do..." Actually, I imagine that quite a lot of people felt the same way...”
I love that phrase "Claudette will know what to do...”
My mother was right about everything.
All the time.
It was exhausting.
Mom always knew what to do. She knew how to act, in any situation. She knew how to dress and how to decorate the world around her. She knew how to swear, and how to drive fast and not get caught. Mom understood how to work hard, but never take it all too seriously. She knew how to balance this ridiculous world that is Hollywood and keep herself and those of us around her grounded in humor and playfulness and balls out in your face honesty.
Over the past 6 months I have grown quite close with a number of mom’s friends. And getting to know so many of her wonderful friends again, I have discovered something: People loved my mother. They loved her like they loved their own mother. And that love made people almost territorial about her. And by that I mean this- mom was so open, and so available for everyone that surrounded her- that one couldn’t help but feel as thought they were being let into her innermost sanctum.
Let me put it this way: What most of us reserve for family and our very best friends- mom gave away freely to everyone.
Whether you were a co worker, or a dinner guest, or an orphan on a holiday, or a recipient of one of her many jars of Peach on Earth, or whether you simply cut her hair- mom was REAL. With EVERYONE. And EVERYONE responded to her, and appreciated her and respected her. People listened to her.
I got another email from an old friend who was one of carter’s child hood best friends and she said “when I was a kid I remember thinking that your mom was the first woman that I knew people listen to like a man. I wanted to grow up and have people listen to me like that’”
And my god who didn’t? I was speaking with Missy last night and she said that in mom’s absence she has found herself thinking- What would Claudette do? And I realize I think the same thing too- What would mom do?
But I know she taught us. And so I rely on that- because everything I know is because of her.
My mother has been my north star- my point of reference- the way with which I navagate, and although she is gone – and her absence leaves an enormous presence… it is that presence with which I know find my way.
Because mom was force. She was funny, and naughty, and kind and disciplined. So disciplined. As most of you probably know, mom spent the last several years of her life on a diet. She was always so conscious of what she put in her body, and specifically she stayed away from sugar. Even though her nickname was Cupcake- cake was NOT something she indulged in.
Until about the last month of her life… I think she felt she was making up for last time because SHE WENT FOR IT. BIG TIME.
Everyday was a different delight. Rice pudding. Tapioca. Brownies. Cupcakes. Sheet cake. Tiramisu. Fudge. Cookies. Ice cream. Smoothies. Tofutti. Trips to the stone cold creamery.
One evening she announced that tomorrow she would be wanting a Coconut Cream Pie from Dupars in Hollywood. And I’m thinking –how the hell does she even know about such a thing? I mean, this is a woman who hasn’t had any sugar of any kind in YEARS. When I explained that we were going to be alone that following day and that it might be difficult for me to run to Hollywood. She replied simply- “Send someone”
Which of course I did: Nikky in fact- went and got the pie…. Thank you Nikky.
Course, I would have done anything for her. We all would have- that’s what made us a Team.
Mom led such an extraordinary life. She reinvented herself so many times. When others couldn’t see the potential in something- Mom did. She saw the good in everything, and in everyone. But more-than that: she brought the best out in everyone she touched.
I know for me- I was the best version of myself with her in these last few months. And as heart broken as I am- I am so grateful that I had these last few months with her, to be with my mom and to redefine our relationship.
She was the queen of the remodel. And I am honored to feel as though I may have been her final project. That we all were- her final remodel was to shape us all into the Team we always had the potential to be.
She taught us how to live BETTER, And how to BE BETTER, and in the end she even taught me how to die. With grace and dignity and class and style and lots and lots of Pie.
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