ON THE TRIP TO BRUSSELS AT CHRISTMAS TIME

12/22/07

I’m off to Brussels to spend Christmas and New Years with my girlfriend Catherine and her family. I’ve been bumped up to business class on British Air, which will make the first leg of the 14 hour trip more comfortable. The translucent wall has been lowered and I’m telling fellow travelers, who are sitting across from me, about Dying to Live to their sincere interest. You never know where the next advocate will surface. I realize that my focus really has shifted to getting the movie out to the widest possible audience. I’m looking forward to spending the next ten days with Catherine and her family. They are straightforward and close. I’m honored to be a part of their loop.

I’ve often felt that I was one of the luckiest guys in the world. First of all I was lucky to have had such a passionate and honest relationship with my late wife Valerie for 21 years. I had more authenticity and love in 21 seconds with her than some guys experience in a lifetime. Now, during the holidays, I am yearning for Valerie and missing her. It’s like there is a hole in my heart that can never be filled.

Sitting here in the glow of the receding sun and listening to the hum of the jets, it’s easy to reflect. I realize that I’ve always had a lot of luck. Tall, athletic, blonde hair and blue eyes. When I was growing up my sister called me “The Prince,” way before it became fashionable to refer to the female gender of the clan as a “Jewish American Princes.”

I was lucky to meet my mentors in the theater. They brought me forward on many levels. Rip Torn told me it was good luck to make love on a stage when I was in a production of Hamlet with him while training as an actor at the Circle in the Square Theater and having a fling with the stage manageress. Maureen Stapleton referred to me as “ a perfect person” to one thousand of her closest friends. Paul Newman, after seeing a short video I’d put together with his daughter Susan on the Pinter play “The Lover,” told me: “You have a very strong presence and you’re obligated to do something with it.” These are the kinds of things you remember at a certain time of life. It’s the foundation of your own self-support system.

Of course there was luck and synchronicity when I met some of the most important people in my life like Valerie, my close college and theater friends, and the playwrights John Shaner & Bernard Slade who gave me opportunity and confidence to passionately grow my work.

Than there was the different luck I had when I was able to actually affect people’s lives when they needed it most. When Valerie was dying and we were able to have her at home for a few more months and I was able to be there with her everyday. Also, when my aunt Bess went back into the hospital with congestive heart failure during this same period and I was able to be with her before and after Valerie’s chemo treatments. I had the time, means and love to be with them so that they wouldn’t experience fear in those unknown moments. It was a gift to me.

Was it luck a bit later when I advocated for our friend Sam to have his feeding tube removed after Valerie had died, when this once vital man was staring at walls from dementia and I knew he would have never wanted to be in that position?

To be continued...