You Have No Idea: A Famous Daughter, Her No-Nonsense Mother, and How They Survived Pageants, Hollywood, Love, Loss (29 page)

“If he’s going to be in the hospital for months and months, it makes sense to have him near his house.”

Then we had to do the most awful thing—place him in a medically induced coma. Dad was transferred by plane to the hospital.

We took a flight out of Miami to meet him there. We prayed that the doctors at this hospital would have the answers and everything would be okay. But we were terrified and in shock. We just couldn’t understand how this was happening. Dad was supposed to be relaxing on a beach in the Bahamas. It was an out-of-body experience for everyone. We kept asking, “How? How?” How could Dad suddenly be so sick that doctors are telling us he might not survive? Dad might die? I couldn’t even think about it.

When we met with the doctors in the intensive care unit, they looked grim.

“His heart’s strong as ever, but all his organs are failing.”

We stayed in his room. I squeezed his hand, rubbed his feet, and stroked his face. “Dad, we’re all here,” I said over and over. Mom was emotionally paralyzed, but in constant motion. She stared at him like she couldn’t believe this was happening. She looked so lost and so frightened.

I could tell by the doctors’ expressions that the situation was hopeless, but Mom wouldn’t believe this. His organs were failing, but his heart was still strong, so that gave her hope.

“Oh, Milton, all that work on your heart.… The doctors told us your heart is still strong,” Mom whispered to Dad, over and over.

The doctors performed an operation that basically sliced my dad’s abdomen open. Later the doctors stopped by and told us what I already knew. “There’s nothing else we can do.”

How do you even comprehend those words? You don’t. They make no sense. A few days ago, Dad was his normal self. Now he’s in an intensive care unit and doctors are telling us the condition’s hopeless. I felt sick and scared. It was just a matter of time, they said. He couldn’t last very much longer.

After the doctors said there was nothing they could do, my mother burst into tears. “But he’s such a good man. He’s such a good, good man.”

There was nothing worse than seeing my mother—so strong, so unflappable—look so helpless, so defeated, and so scared. I think sometimes she believed she was a handful for my father. There were times she felt like she didn’t deserve such a remarkable man. He did everything right, so he should be allowed to live, not her, she thought. She loved him so much and couldn’t fathom that the world she knew was suddenly ending. Chris and I wanted to protect her, but we didn’t know what to do. We waited, we huddled, we brainstormed.

“Why him? Why him?” my mother kept repeating.

We stayed in Dad’s room, praying he’d come out of it. Then on Monday night, Mom said, “Let’s all go home and get some sleep.”

The next morning, Tuesday, January 17, I woke feeling anxious. I had barely slept. I just tossed and turned while trying to grasp what was happening. My father was my idol, my hero, my model by which I judged all other men. What would life be like without Dad in it? How could my mother continue without the man who had truly been her soul mate?

HELEN ON MILTON

I thought Milton would bounce back because he always did. Why should this time be any different? He wasn’t supposed to leave me. He said to me, “Don’t worry, I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always be here.” I couldn’t even imagine that it was possible Milton would not survive. When the doctors told me his heart was strong, I really believed he would recover. I just couldn’t imagine otherwise. Or maybe I just didn’t want to imagine otherwise.

As night turned into morning, I lay in bed, thinking,
My dad is dead.
I felt like something in the world had shifted and would never be the same.

At 6:30 in the morning, the phone rang. I braced myself. Once I picked up that phone, everything would change.

It was my mother. “The hospital just called. It’s your father…”

I didn’t let her finish. I just couldn’t hear the rest of the sentence.

“I’m on my way.”

I hung up the phone and got dressed as fast as possible. I said to Kathi, “Don’t send the kids to school today.”

I sped to the hospital in Valhalla. I ran past the front desk and took the elevator to Dad’s room in the intensive care unit. As I raced down the ICU hallway, I saw a hearse out the window and prayed it wasn’t an omen. I prayed that somehow Dad would still be alive.

But when I got to his room, the door was closed.

I took a long, deep breath and thought,
Okay. I can do this
. Then I flung open the door and walked in. The blinds were drawn. The equipment had been shut off, so there was no beeping of monitors or hissing of oxygen tanks. It was so quiet. So still.

And there was Papa.

Dad was lying on the bed. All the tubes and needles had been removed, but there was still a piece of tape on his mouth that had kept some tube in place. I walked over to him and stared at his lifeless body. “Oh, Dad,” I said. I pulled off the tape, touched his face, and kissed him on the lips. I thought,
We have the same lips. They’re the exact same shape.
Until that moment, I hadn’t noticed.

“I love you, Dad.”

Then the tears started pouring.

BOOKS I RELIED ON THROUGH TOUGH TIMES

•
The Value in the Valley
by Iyanla Vanzant, an inspirational speaker and ordained minister. The book’s message is that life is not just a series of peaks or mountaintop experiences but often a difficult journey through dark valleys.

• Thomas Moore’s
Dark Nights of the Soul
, which deals with death, rebirth, and grieving. The theme of the book is that you should take the time to grieve—listen to sad music and cry. Don’t be afraid of grief and don’t suppress your sadness because then you will never get through it.

My mom slowly walked into the room. “Milton,” she said in a voice that sounded completely devastated. I called Kathi and told her to bring the kids. They joined us as we huddled at Dad’s bed, forming a circle around him.

Why Dad? How did this happen? How could this happen? Why did this happen?

We sobbed and sobbed. Our grief felt bottomless. Melanie cried so fiercely that her nose bled all over the floor.

I’d gone through two divorces. I’d known the pain of lost love, the agony of rejection. I thought I understood what it was like to be heartbroken. The moment I saw my dad’s lifeless body, I realized I had no idea.

CHAPTER

29

T
he night before Milton died I whispered in his ear, “You can go now.”

I didn’t want to let go, but I had no choice. His organs had shut down, but I knew he was holding on for me, for his family. I knew I had to tell him that we’d be okay without him, even though I didn’t necessarily believe that was true. I couldn’t even imagine being without him. It sounds silly, but he promised he wouldn’t leave me and I really believed him. For a while I was angry with him. How could he have done this to me? Of course it’s irrational. One day I had this realization: “There’s no choice. It’s the natural progression of life.” It was his time.

The night Milton died I went into my bed, just exhausted and so sad. I lay in our bed too tired to sleep.
Gosh, I’m alone now. There’s no more Milton. He’ll never be in this bed with me again to keep my cold feet warm.

Suddenly I felt this incredible sensation of warmth. It was as if someone had taken a blanket and covered me with it, even though I was alone.

Milton.

I do believe that spirits are all around us. And I felt like Milton was sending me a message: Even though he wasn’t in this world with us anymore, he’d still be there, looking out for us, keeping me warm.

In some way, he had kept his promise.

MOMENTS I REALIZED MOM’S A ROCK STAR

• When Mom played piano at her beloved sister’s funeral. Gretta was Mom’s best friend; and two month earlier, my dad had died. So Mom was in deep, deep mourning. She played three different arrangements that were in her head and I was transported to another dimension while I watched in awe, amazed at her originality and talent. She didn’t shed a tear. I have no idea how she did that. I know I couldn’t have.

• At my father’s memorial at the high school at which he taught, my mother stood up in front of the auditorium that was just packed with people. She delivered a eulogy that had everyone laughing and crying. She didn’t have any notes—she spoke from her heart, even though she was filled with such sadness and even though she was still very much in shock.

• During the Miss America scandal my mother stood by my side and never lost her cool. She was a rock. I survived it because of Mom’s support.

CHAPTER

30

Those were amazing acting skills on Vanessa’s part to develop that Wilhelmina persona. Where did those glares, eyebrow raises, and “Don’t mess with me” attitude come from? I have no idea!

—HELEN WILLIAMS

I
had no desire to meet with producers of a pilot called
Ugly Betty
. I was so devastated by my dad’s death that I needed some time. I was strong for my kids and tried to accept the loss, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that my dad was no longer with us. “Not a day goes by,” as Sondheim wrote. There were countless times I’d head to the phone to call him, or flash on a thought that I wanted to share with him. Then I’d remember,
Dad’s dead
, and a fresh wave of grief would slam into me.

Pilot season was in full swing. And the future of
South Beach
, the series I’d been working on, was uncertain. We’d shot the first eight episodes and were waiting for the back nine when I heard from a friend that the studio was selling off our set. That was a good sign that we weren’t coming back.

My heart wasn’t into it at all. But I also knew that keeping busy is what I do best—same thing with my mom. It’s what keeps us
from falling apart. It’s the stillness, the silence that makes me remember what’s going on in my heart.

A few weeks earlier I had met with writer/producer Candace Bushnell, the author of
Sex and the City
. She was gearing up to bring her new book,
Lipstick Jungle
, to television. I met with her because my manager said that the show would be shot in New York. If I was cast, I’d be able to stay in Chappaqua with my children. That sounded great, especially since I’d spent the last summer in Miami working on
South Beach
.

“My dad just died a few weeks ago. I wish I was just more up for this,” I told Candace almost as soon as our meeting started.

“I understand. I just lost my mom,” Candace said.

The meeting turned into a grief session. I think we were fighting back tears. After we talked about our parents’ deaths, I did a quick, uninspired reading and was on my way.

I didn’t get cast.

On the drive home, I remember thinking it might be time to give some serious thought to what was next. I needed to do something. It’s a fact that you can easily get aged-out in this business. And here I was, just a few weeks from my forty-third birthday. While I’ve been blessed with the chance to express my talents in many different areas—from singing gigs to the Broadway stages—I was also aware that there were not many feature-film or television scripts on the horizon. The days of playing the young executive types were narrowing in my rearview mirror.

At this point in my career, I was reading for the roles of the moms, doctors, and lawyers. I could handle playing “Mom.” I understood that there were certain roles you just one day grow out of. Besides, it didn’t really matter what the parts were, as long as they were strong, character-driven roles.

Even before the
Lipstick Jungle
meeting, my manager had been pushing
Ugly Betty,
a television pilot that revolved around a fashion
magazine, which was also slated to be a New York–based production. He got me a copy of the script and kept asking me to read it and take a meeting. He was persistent, almost relentless. He said the show’s producers, including actress Salma Hayek, really wanted to meet me or at least get on the phone with me.

I’d just booked a trip to Egypt. I had been asked to sing at a friend’s wedding and I decided to take Mom and the kids along during their winter break. A change of scenery was just what we all needed. We’d escape into the world of tombs, pyramids, camel rides, and adventure.

“But would you please get on the phone with them?” my manager asked.

“Hey, if my BlackBerry works while I’m sailing down the Nile, I’ll certainly try to make that call.”

I hadn’t even gotten the part, but I was already channeling Wilhelmina!

Fierce!

This was my second trip to Egypt in a year. In August, a few months before my father died, my mom and I had toured the country with a few girlfriends. During the entire trip—whether we were exploring pyramids, touring museums, or cruising the Nile—we’d look at one another and say, “Dad would have loved this.” He was such a history buff and the trip would have fascinated him. We felt guilty for not including him on the girls’ trip. We realized we should have had him tag along and see the sights with us. So we returned as a family to a place my dad, the kids’ Papa, would have loved. I had such a wonderful time that I didn’t want to leave.

Oh, and as for the call to the
Ugly Betty
producers? I tried, but I couldn’t get a decent signal. I shrugged off all those dropped calls as a sign from the universe. The producers and the network cast Wilhelmina. I enjoyed my trip and that was that.

Well, actually it wasn’t.

The actress who was cast as Wilhelmina was let go. It’s not uncommon for producers to swap out actors and crew during and after a pilot. Legend had it that she showed up at a table read in huge sunglasses. She delivered her dialogue so quietly that it was impossible to hear a word she spoke. At the end of the table read, the network and the executive producers, Silvio Horta and Salma Hayek, decided to call me and make me an offer.