Part 3 (2/2)

Diary entry:

Gigi called and said Carrie came by asking for money, and that she looked like death. Ashen, gaunt, rail-thin, and shaking. I have to do something NOW! I'm not going to wait until she hits bottom. No, no, no! She's my baby. As far as I'm concerned, she has ”hit bottom” now!

Carrie was seventeen, so legally Joe and I were still in charge, but that would only last until her eighteenth birthday. I called Gigi back and told her to tell Carrie that her dad would give her some money, but she would have to go to the rehab facility where he was, in order to get it. Gigi would drive her there. I then called the rehab facility, told them the story, and asked that they admit her immediately. They put me through to Joe, and I filled him in.

I hung up and waited. All h.e.l.l was breaking loose in California, and here I was with Jody and Erin three thousand miles away on an island in the middle of the Pacific. I stared at the phone for over two hours waiting for a call-waiting and weeping. The girls were obviously worrying about me, but I knew they had their fears about Carrie, too. I just wasn't able to console myself at the moment, much less them.

Finally, the phone rang and the person on the other end introduced himself as Dr. Peters. He told me that when Carrie realized she had been tricked she had gone crazy and had tried to run away. She couldn't get out of the building, though, and finally they were able to restrain her. Furious, she was cursing me and calling me every name in the book, even though I wasn't there. After the doctor had calmed Carrie down, he gave her a sedative to help her sleep. We were at the beginning of yet another thirty-day program.

I knew I had done the right thing. I finally realized I had to love her enough to let her hate me.

Diary entry:

Exhausted, but awake. It's four a.m.

Leaving for L.A. with Jody and Erin in a few short hours. Another ”Family Week” ahead.

Feel compelled to write, but don't know what exactly. Thinking about the time Joe and I discussed finding some underprivileged kid who got good grades but would never be able to afford a good private boarding school, and pay for his or her high school education (which we wound up doing anonymously). This came out of a discussion about Carrie and whether or not she could ever appreciate the opportunities that had been handed to her.

Will she straighten out this time, or will she blow it?

She's writing her own life story now. She has the potential for having and doing it all-a good brain, a sense of humor, enormous charisma, plus financial means. I'm coming to realize that this puts an extra burden on a soul, and that she needs to be extra strong to avoid succ.u.mbing to all those temptations out there. It's just too easy for someone who grew up the way she did to simply live for the many pleasures of this materialistic world. Everything she could ever ask for has just been handed to her, but if she can take these things and choose the path of giving and helping, she could accomplish so much in her lifetime.

I just realized something! For all the obvious difficulties of my childhood, I had it easier than Carrie did! I am dumbstruck by the thought. Not only did our modest means provide me with far fewer temptations, but my goal in life was crystal clear from the beginning: survival. Period. There was no room in my life for experimentation. Anything that didn't contribute to staying alive was an indulgence I couldn't afford, pure and simple.

Now I'm thinking that Carrie and kids like her (by that I mean from all outside appearances) aren't actually born into fortunate circ.u.mstances at all when it comes to developing character, or their souls. If someone heads along a good path IN SPITE OF a silver spoon in their mouth, then I believe they've really done more hard work than someone like me, who had none of the distractions and temptations that come with those ”advantages.”

G.o.d, how often do we say and hear, ”I just don't get it. These kids today have so much more than we ever had. We had to work, we had no money, we had to struggle. What the h.e.l.l's the matter with them? They should be so d.a.m.n grateful. We certainly would be!”

Would we?

Could we have survived and made something of ourselves if we hadn't HAD to?

Odd. Suddenly I don't seem to resent these people for their ”golden opportunities” now. The prost.i.tute who gives up her way of life seems to me more blessed than the pious woman who was never tempted to use her body to make a living.

In other words, if you don't like chocolate, then you're not proving much by refusing a bonbon.

4:45 a.m.

I guess this is why I woke up. These thoughts have made some things more clear to me, and I pray they will help me to help Carrie ... and to be more understanding and less frightened, although I know this is not over, not by a long shot.

The wee hours of quiet and solitude are precious. I know this time has been put to good use, and for this I'm grateful, too.

As Jody, Erin, and I were flying over the ocean to L.A. I thought about the strange turn of events that put my daughter and my husband in the same situation at the same time in the same hospital. I was nervous, not only for myself, but for all of us. Jody and Erin were too young to have all this stress surrounding Carrie foisted upon them, and now their father was in the mix. I closed my eyes and prayed for us all.

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