I knew I had been allowed a rare glimpse of what these women, who represented countless others, had been through. Laughing and bonding with these women and their common experience was a remarkable moment for me. The impromptu scene that played out in the bowels of our nation’s capital reminded me why my involvement, and indeed all the efforts of these courageous women, was so important.
A few years ago, I was making a toast after one of our marches in D.C. As I looked around the room, I realized that, besides my Walton and McDonough families, these were some of the most resilient, loyal, and generous women and men I ever had the privilege to meet and learn from. I raised my glass, toasted my implants and the whole experience, trying to put into words how these people had changed and touched my life. Talk about making lemonade.
12
THE MOUNTAIN TODAY
I never wanted to see the complete removal of implants from the market. We wanted a safe implant and to ensure that women have the opportunity to make an informed choice about what they were electing to put into their bodies, especially for cancer survivors. We also wanted to shed light on a system full of conflicts of interest that was seemingly allowed to hide facts from consumers.
I fear that may never happen now. After years working toward these goals, in 2006, the FDA approved lifting the ban on silicone implants. This was quite a blow to all of us who had worked so hard to raise awareness and to ask for long-term research. I reflected on the disregard for what we’d been saying about how ill the devices had made us, how suspicious we were of the procedures, especially given the coincidental circumstances: the very scientists who’d performed testing, and the doctors who defended their safety, were often paid by the manufacturers to tell us there was no connection to our illnesses.
I couldn’t wrap my head around the conflicting information. The FDA supported the approval recommendation the panel made without the data the FDA itself had asked for. It felt like years of our work was for nothing. Then the FDA loosened the guidelines, allowing both companies to sell implants. When we met with the FDA to ask about the follow-up studies, they asked Sybil and me to continue to inform women and educate them on their choices.
We still work to educate and inform. I still receive e-mails from women who are ill, wondering if implants could be the cause. My hope is that this book sheds some light on a few events in a controversial and heated debate that taught me to question authority and ask again. I also learned that every individual has a voice, and finding yours and using it wisely can make a difference.
FACING THE MOUNTAIN
Similar to the feelings I’d had when I raised my glass to toast the courageous women and men in the implant movement, I realized what the experience has cemented in me. I was meant to learn how to make the best of a bad situation. The connection to a cause and the people affected was the journey, and “winning” not the destination. It was what it was. That revelation led me to where I am today.
Looking back, I realize I battled my fears and tears all my life, until I met the greatest challenge of all. Facing my fears head-on in a cause I truly believed in—one that affected me down to my very bones. It taught me I could speak up; I didn’t have to be alone; I did have a voice, even against those in authority.
Here’s something I wrote when I was twenty-one. It’s amazing how even that many years ago, mountains were such a metaphor for me:
Loneliness is a very sad thing. Everyone finds it on their path of life. But for some it is a rock to climb over. For some, it’s not even on the path and for others, it is a mountain. You can’t see over the mountain so you start to climb. I climb but it seems I get to the top and I fall down. I tumble with the rocks, sand and gravel which are my feelings, tears and hopes.
They swallow me up in the tumble. I am lost and again at the bottom of the mountain. I start to climb all over again. Maybe this time I will make it to the top. If I don’t, my soul and spirit will. They will fly away into the sky, leaving my body and mind behind to deal with the fears of the mountain.
Looking at this, I see I always had an inner strength to know I could fly, even when I felt I was falling down. My mountains of “stuff” ultimately brought me back to myself, my inner knowing. I listened from every level on the mountain and found my spirit. When I flailed and got swept up in the landslides of my emotions, I felt lost. Now it’s a moment-to-moment awareness of where I choose to stand on my mountain and how I look at every rock and boulder.
LETTING GO OF OLD APPROVALS
As much as I believed in what I’d done as an activist, after ten years of undiagnosed illness and fifteen years after explantation, I was even further from my goal of an acting career in Hollywood, which I had yearned for after leaving Walton’s Mountain. Now I know my path may not have led me to be a movie star, but it did lead me to find my soul and my spirit:
Some beauty here is still, some in motion. There is the stillness of the mountains, the rocks and trees high above us. The vegetation seems as still as the mountain it is attached to. Yet, we know it is growing. Silently, motionless. Lower we see the deer run, birds fly, ants roam and aspen leaves fluttering in the breeze. Motion and stillness coming together as one. Simply living and abiding each other. We as a race should strive to do the same. To live together in stillness and motion, aware of the other, living together in peace and harmony.
As I watch the water flow approach a boulder I wonder which way it will go and how it decides. In a moment I know. There is no hesitation with the water’s flow. It simply divides and meets up on the other side; the water effortlessly slides to one or the other side. Never pausing to make a choice. Simply going its own merry way. I must remember this when I want to stop life’s flow to pass boulders I see in my way.
MORE THAN ERIN
I learned to accept I would always be associated with Erin. I also learned to direct my life into other areas I was interested in. I had always wanted to try all aspects of filmmaking, including directing. Teaching acting for years helped me direct actors to performances. When I wrote my movie, For the Love of May, I decided to make a short film first as a teaser to the long form. Of course, I pulled all my “family” into the making of May. Wonderful June, my dear friend, produced it and asked all her own fabulous friends to help. My brother Michael, a director himself, came to work on the film.
May is about four generations of women who deal with the effects of waiting for Mr. Right. I asked both my “mothers” to be in the film. Patricia Neal was incredible as May, a woman who gets a call from a lost love she has pined over for fifty years. Nick and Nina Clooney let me use the image of their uncle George from a WWII still, and his bomber jacket is a beloved prop Patricia holds. He is Edward, the long-lost love. Rosemary lent me her version of “Sentimental Journey.” Michael Learned played Patricia’s daughter. When she heard we needed a house to film in, she let us use hers.
I was so scared something would happen to her gorgeous house. I was there the night before, putting away her valuables and breakables, and taping cardboard over her beautiful hardwood floors. I feared a light would fall or a camera dolly tire would scuff them, but Michael wasn’t worried at all. Just like a mom to support her kid.
As I mentioned, Alexandra Paul and Alison Arngrim were in the movie, with Annie LaRussa and Karle Warren rounding out the generations. I used Tony Becker, who was Drew in The Waltons, for a photo boyfriend. There was only one man in the film, so it was perfect that Jimbo was played by RuPaul. Out of drag. I loved the irony of that one. Ru is one of the most beautiful people inside, so he was perfect to play the spiritual counterpart to Alexandra’s Emily. He radiates incredible energy. I adore him. I had so much help on the film, it was a love fest all the way around. We shot on 35mm, and won several awards at film festivals. I learned so many wonderful lessons from May—gratitude being first on the list—and the project confirmed I adored filmmaking from the director’s seat.
MOSAIC OF LIFE
Adding filmmaker to my résumé reminded me that
it’s never just one thing with me. I remember on a speaker’s tour for YAU, my friend Mitchell said, “So much has happened to you, you talk about so many issues, maybe you should pick just one to talk about.”
The same thing happened while I wrote this. People wanted it to be just The Waltons, or just lupus, or implants, or acting, or activism, but I am not just one element of my life. So, with this book, you get many facets of the mosaic that is my life. I have been a child performer, former child performer, nonprofit worker, filmmaker, wife, mother, blogger, activist, actress, writer, acting teacher, and producer.
And now I have a new role. I found my Mr. Right. I’ll tell you more about him soon.
MOSAIC IN MOTION
I found healing in communication and shared experiences, and decided I wanted to inspire others through the terrain of their own mountains and molehills, so I became a public speaker and workshop leader. As a certified life coach, I help people realize their true potential.
I never want anyone to be as terrified as I was. I faced so many situations not having a clue. I have combined my coaching and communication skills with acting techniques to teach “Acting for Life.” Not just designed for people in entertainment, my acting lessons are for everyone who needs a boost of confidence or just a push toward being the best they can be.
Another tile in my mosaic is my body image workshops: “Body Branding, Getting Comfortable in the Skin You’re In.”
In all the classes, seminars, and talks I give, my goal is to use my own experiences to prepare people for the most important role they’ll ever play: being themselves. All our lives, we audition for new jobs or deal with people and their emotions. I teach communication and confidence, how to look someone in the eye and sell yourself, a product, or a concept.
DON ON THE MOUNTAIN
After being a single mom for eight years, I feel blessed to have found a partner in life. Indeed, I found my own leading man.
Like Erin, I went through some interesting times dating—something I didn’t like as a teenager, and enjoyed less as a grown-up. One man dumped me because I had lupus, so you can imagine my hesitance to date. After so many years alone, I met my mate, partner, and love, Don, who is handsome, smart, and very funny. Like Erin, I had had heartbreak and I waited a long time to find love again, until I met Don and his daughters in 2004.
Don and I have mutual friends and experiences from throughout our lives. We were probably crossing each other’s paths numerous times, until the right time. Our first date was July 5 and we still celebrate our anniversary on that day. We met at a seafood restaurant and I had steamed clams. I gave him the first one, and that is our tradition now. We have the same meal and I always share the first clam with him. Is that goofy romantic or what? But I am a hopeless romantic.
I had always hated dating and this was no exception. I had a lot of support, though. If it wasn’t for my friend Scott talking to me on the phone the whole way, telling me I had to go, I might have turned the car around. I even had my friend Maria Calleia as a backup escape call. When she called during appetizers, Don looked at me knowingly and said, “Is that your exit call? Here, give me the phone.” Busted, I handed it over. Now, Maria has one of the quickest wits I know; so when Don answered with a witty barb, she was in stitches and they talked for ten minutes. When he handed the phone back, all I heard before the click was “He’s hilarious, have fun.”
We found out that we had been in all the same places growing up. My dad developed land in Orange County with automotive centers, restaurants, shops, and strip malls. One of his automatic transmission shops was in Buena Park. We used to go with my dad and walk to Knott’s Berry Farm when we were kids.
On our first date, we talked about Los Angeles, my being a Valley girl and Don being from the OC. Turns out Don knew the auto center, he ate at the same Love’s Restaurant where I went with my family, and even worked at Knott’s. As kids, we ate at the same coffee shops, the Van de Kamp’s restaurant, with the famous windmill, and he went to the Pop Shoppe on my dad’s property. We had been in the same places all our childhoods.
A few years before our first date, I was shooting a Macaroni Grill commercial. At 5:30 A.M., the trucks and equipment took over the parking lot as film companies often do. Don was an Ironman competitor who would swim, run, or ride a million miles in early-morning training. He was in that parking lot that day, hating that he couldn’t find a place to park. We laughed about it later, and I said he should have come over and said hello.
Our ninth date was to one of Miss Carolyn Grinnell’s Walton Fan Club reunions in Los Angeles. Picture this: Don has never seen an episode of the show. So here he is with the cast members and fans at a Walton reunion! There was memorabilia piled up on our table for me to sign. One was the cover of a TV Guide. He looked at me and said, “You were on the cover of a TV Guide?”
I don’t think he knew what he was in for. It was even more humorous to see the look on his face when he saw the paper doll book. “Yes, I am also a paper doll,” I said. It was refreshing to meet someone who had no idea who Erin was. He wanted to be with Mary.
When my brother John heard I was taking him to the reunion, he asked me, “Aren’t you pushing him a little?”
I said, “No way. If he can’t handle this, then he can’t be with me. Better to find out sooner rather than later.” Don was a good sport and listened to all the speeches and stories of how the show touched every person in the room.
I introduced him to Michael Learned at the beginning of the night. After dinner, she pulled me aside and said, “You’re going to marry him.”
I was shocked. “What? You don’t even know him. How can you say that? I don’t even know him yet!” She just smiled, knowing she was right.
I met Don a year before my mother was diagnosed with acute myelocytic leukemia. She loved that he held out his arm for her to hold when they walked together. She was always a lady and loved a gentleman, which Don is. When she was close to the end, he told her in a private moment not to worry because he was going to take care of me and Sydnee. I think she left this life feeling a lot better about my future after hearing Don’s reassuring words.
After my mom passed, it was a tough time. Don planned a trip so I could visit my brother and go to Sonoma to get away from it all. While we were at a dinner with my brother John, and my sister-in-law Beth, Don ordered champagne for us, then pulled out a beautiful diamond ring and asked me to marry him.
We merged our families. His daughters, Kylie and Robyn, and Sydnee all got along, and I felt accepted when Kylie and Robyn begged me to marry their dad. All three promised they would get along, clean their rooms, and never fight if we were together. They were young at the time. With three teenage girls, it was pretty wild at times.
Don’s also great with Sydnee. He has been supportive and a great sport living with all of us girls. My brother Michael said I should marry him quick before he realized he was living with four women. I always joke that Don and Sydnee get along better than anyone in the house, which was so important to me.
They do gang up on me when they watch the show, which I have now forbidden. Let me explain. Sydnee, who had not seen it, either, and Don started to watch The Homecoming a few years ago. Well, that was a big mistake. They got to the “I am not a prissy butt” part, and the howling began. In stereo, they would chant, “Mama, Mama…Mama, Mama!” You get the picture. Then they would laugh and go on to other choice Erin quotes. The television went off, and I don’t think either one of them has ever seen the whole movie.
The same thing happened with the DVD set of the shows. Robyn was watching with them and they decided to imitate Erin and Mary Ellen in one scene. We laughed, and I forbade them to watch any more episodes, but it didn’t stop the teasing.
Life is good and I am happy for us all. Now Sydnee has the sisters she always wanted. Having stepdaughters and merging a family is a whole other book, but we have managed to find fun, enjoy traveling, create new traditions, and have a true sense o
f family together.
On my first birthday after my mom left us, I was sad when I realized she would not call me at the time of my birth, as she had done every year. Knowing I dreaded the approaching hour, Don sent me flowers and signed the card from my mom. He is a good man who makes me laugh, holds me when I cry, and supports me to be everything I am. I am so glad to be a part of his life and have the gifts he shares with us. I could not have written this book without his love and support.
WHERE I SIT NOW
I feel blessed to have had so many great friends and family over the years. I still act, and having my great friend Kari Lizer, who created The New Adventures of Old Christine, create Mrs. Wilhoite for me was a true blessing, and I’ll be forever grateful. When Don and I got engaged, she threw the perfect engagement party for us.
I am getting to do more character roles now, and I love it. No more worrying if I have to wear a bathing suit. Mrs. Wilhoite is a mom at the school. She’s not tiny or a blonde, like the meanie moms. I joke that she’s a bit matronly. Not that I don’t worry about my looks and don’t have image issues. I think I’ll always wonder “Does this butt make my pants look fat?” As an actress and as a woman, I may always worry if I look fat. But today, I work with it differently.
In Christmas at Cadillac Jack’s, I played Madge, a sassy waitress with an ill-fitting bright uniform. I begged the director to let my eye shadow be bright blue to add an offbeat look.
A VIEW WITH THE MOUNTAIN
Through all my ups and downs, I searched for meaning, the why of it all, and my truth. I’ve stumbled and examined every rock, trying to get off the mountain, or at least move it. I worked so hard, I was exhausted. Mama Rosemary Clooney once asked me if I would ever stop searching, exploring, and looking for answers. I didn’t understand her question at the time, but I think it had something to do with sitting down and just taking in the view. I get it now.
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