by Dyan Cannon
Isn’t it amazing, Cary, that after all this time, your light still shines so brightly in my heart? And not just for me, but for many, many others. You’re as beloved now as you ever were, and rightly so. You helped generations to laugh, cry, and cheer as we muddled our way through this thing called life, and along the way, you made grace, charm, and wit seem attainable. And even though Elsie and Elias weren’t there for you as a child, you have millions of people who would adopt you on the spot.
We said it many times, Cary: we were both seekers. And the thing that you and I were so desperately searching for was that inexhaustible source of love and that lasting inner peace. Cary, I finally found it!
I found it in the stillness of the night on the beach in Malibu.
I found it because I asked.
It was just that easy. I asked. And I received. And I feel certain that by now, you’ve found it, too. (Of course, just as with falling in love, finding it was one thing and living in it is quite another. It’s work, to be sure, but it’s the nicest work of all if you can get it, and the best part is, everybody can!)
Just the other night, for the first time in many years, I dreamed about you. I was standing on top of the world, enjoying the view. And then I felt a pair of arms wrap around me from behind and somehow I knew they belonged to you. I turned around and we were face-to-face. I was so happy to see you.
You led me through a door and into a room, a cozy room with a fireplace and a piano. From a kitchen somewhere in the house, I could smell the aroma of cooking—I think it was bubble and squeak, one of your favorites. You whistled, and I heard the cheerful sound of a dog barking.
And there was Bangs, leaping up into my arms.
You looked at me, smiled with that incredible sparkle in your eyes, and we gazed at each other for a long while. I had such a strong feeling of peace and bliss; all the wounds were healed, all the confusion had blown away like wisps of smoke, all of the blame had dissolved into understanding.
“All is forgiven,” you stated simply.
“All is forgiven,” I replied, though it needed no confirmation.
And that’s how I feel: totally at peace with the past, and so grateful for the love we had, imperfect as it may have been, and blessed by the lessons I’ve learned from the experience.
Cary, I wish I could take hold of your hand right now and look in your eyes as I tell you this: thank you for letting me be such a big part of your life. Thank you for choosing me to be the mother of our child. Thank you for the romance of a lifetime, and for teaching me the difference between romance and love.
It has taken many years (and oddly, as time rolls on, I don’t feel older—I just feel newer), but I wanted you to finally hear my heart.
I wish I could have loved you then the way I’ve learned to love now.
P.S. I never knew if you figured out that the chicken I served you in my apartment that night was from La Scala . . . Did you?
Author’s Note
In 1986, two weeks after Cary passed away, the legendary literary agent Swifty Lazar called me. He’d been a friend of Cary’s, and mine as well, and I was happy to hear from him. “Dyan, it’s time to write the book,” he said, forecasting a thundershower of money.
“Sorry, Swifty . . . I don’t think so,” I replied. It really was out of the question. It had been eighteen years since Cary and I split, but I knew I wasn’t yet ready to take on the subject.
Roughly fifteen years later, Jackie Onassis, then an editor at Doubleday, called. “I’d like you to write a book about your life,” she told me, “and you don’t have to mention a word about Cary. You have got enough to say without even referring to him.” Although astonishing sums of money were again mentioned, I told her I heartily disagreed. I still wasn’t ready to write a book . . . and especially one that didn’t go into my relationship with him; that would make no sense. He was too big a part of my life, and his absence in any narrative written by me would be like an invisible planet warping the orbit of any story I had to tell.
Simply stated, the right time has come. It’s been many years. There have been numerous false starts and obstacles along the way. I can say without qualification that writing this book has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but also that I’ve learned more from the process than anything I’ve ever done.
I thought the healing had been complete, but I was mistaken.
The real healing had just begun.
Why now? Because finally, I found a way to forgive. Because my heart was broken and now it’s whole. Because it hurts to hurt . . . and I don’t hurt anymore. Because the Love that fills and completes my life is available for everyone. There is a way out of brokenness. There is a way to heal our hearts.
I wrote this book for all people everywhere who have loved and lost and fear to love again. It is possible to get the stars back in our eyes . . . and keep them there!
Acknowledgments
In writing this memoir, I have been passionately committed to giving a truthful account of my relationship with Cary, and, of course, everyone else who became a part of our lives. Mostly, it all seems like it happened yesterday, and many of the conversations and events hang as clearly in my memory as if they actually did happen yesterday. Of course, one cannot have perfect recall of conversations that happened so long ago—though in many cases, I think I get pretty close—so my guiding light in reconstructing dialogue has been to remain faithful to the way we talked to each other. I’ve taken great care to honor not merely Cary’s manner of speech but also the extraordinarily complex mind from which his words sprang.
Some names have been changed to protect privacy, and some small liberties have been taken with time and space. However, I do not see anything in the manuscript that would qualify as embellishment. Just to fill out the picture, in telling this story I have relied upon a vast number of notes, letters, and drawings from Cary that helped kindle my memory. Much has been written about Cary, and from what I’ve read, little of it is trustworthy, so mostly I’ve relied on what was at hand and in mind.
Of course, the kind of spiritual nourishment that a book such as this requires flows from one source, the power of Love and that assumes many manifestations in the form of friends and family. Naturally, there are many people to whom I owe a huge debt of gratitude.
First and absolutely foremost I wish to thank the biggest love of my life, my daughter, Jennifer, for being more than everything a mother could possibly want in a daughter; the love light that shines from your soul inspires and teaches not only me but everyone who knows you. And now our little Cary has inherited that light, that pure and perfect light that spreads limitless joy to anyone in his presence. You are a perfect mother and a perfect daughter and just plain lovely! Thank you. I love you.
Beginning with those who were formally involved with this book, I would first like to express my deep appreciation to Jeff Silberman for his steadying hand when the going got tough and for being ever ready to repeatedly assist with notes, ideas, and loving support—I could not have finished this book without him; to my literary agent, Marc Gerald, for the helpful advice and cheers; and to my editor, Mauro DiPreta, a truly special gentleman, without whose faith and abiding patience this book would not have been possible.
I will be eternally grateful for the friends who found their way into the pages of this book: My lifelong treasured friend and agent Addie, my guardian angel, and her husband, Cliff. They were always there for me (and still are); I am blessed indeed to know and love them . . . their love sustained me during the toughest times . . . My darling Darlene Jaman and my precious friend Corky Hale remain as important to my life today as they were many years ago. And of course Artis Lane, for opening the most important door of all!
I’d like to thank my dear friend Judy Baldwin for always having my back; Joelle Bercovitch for practical help and loving support even when I didn’t ask; Richard Drapkin for his listening ear and guiding light; Saku Ee for her steady assistance and inspiration during e
very aspect of this book; and Jennifer Schulkind and Yvette Perkins for their active help through all of it!
Of course from all of my heart to all of theirs . . . Jackie and Farzaneh for abiding sisterhood; Olga for her tireless encouragement; and the entire group from the Outreach, for their ceaseless and never-ending prayers; my wonderful Joan for all the help with the photos; and my brilliant brother, David Friesen, who inspires me in all he thinks, says, and does! And thanks to Derby for hanging in since our high school days together!
I owe so much to many who have passed, and because their spirits live on, I feel it appropriate to mention them: Mom and Dad, for what is obvious if you have read this far—simply the best parents in the universe, who loved me unconditionally in spite of my many imperfections; Jackie Onassis, for her unflagging belief in women in general and me in particular; my dear Vince, not only for rescuing me the night I went wandering but for the managerial protection, love, and abiding guidance I received from him on a daily basis; Hal Gefsky, who, along with Addie, is still one of the best agents ever—he remains the kindest man I’ve ever known; Mary Gries, for taking me in, physically and emotionally; and Audrey Hepburn, for her friendship and generosity of spirit.
You may think me silly (though you might be too), but I would like to thank Juanitacita Carmelita Lomalinda Tralala Cohen (JC for short) and Matilda, who respectively are three- and four-pound Chihuahuas, for the never-ending joy they provide.
To my friend Martin Booe . . . I want to thank you for rescuing me and helping me to turn the impossible into the possible, and in so doing forging the deepest of bonds. This book would not have been possible without you and for that and so many things, I love you!
And finally, thank you to all the guys I’ve ever dated who’ve helped me sort out what I wanted from what I didn’t want.
Photo Section
SSPL/Getty Images
Me at age two, with Daddy and my best friend, Butch.
Family portrait: Mom, Dad, brother David, and me at fifteen.
My first public performance at age five—tap-dancing. Mom made my glamorous outfit herself. Performing was already in my blood.
Headshots are every actor’s calling card, and these are a few early ones.
You’ve got to love the tragic “Joan of Arc” pose!
With Bangs, my beloved Yorkshire terrier, who traveled everywhere with me.
From left: My agents Hal Gefsky and Addie Gould, me, and Hal’s mother . . . all decked out for a movie premiere.
Publicity shot for the 1961 series Malibu Run, the show that Cary happened to be watching when he first caught sight of me.
A shot from my starring role in Full Circle, the hit CBS soap opera.
Aloha! A snap from a Hawaiian-themed party Cary and I attended during our first year of dating.
Cary, me, Mom, and Dad, posing for a pre-wedding shot.
Exhale! Me, relaxing after Cary and I cleared the air minutes before the wedding.
You may kiss the bride! Cary’s attorney Stanley Fox stands at left. Addie Gould, my agent and best friend, right.
Yahoo! And baby makes three. Our daughter, Jennifer, was born on February 26, 1966.
With Jennifer, the love of my life.
Daddy Cary with his Baby Jen.
One thing we always agreed on: Our baby was the most beautiful baby in the world!
Philippe Halsman/Magnum Photos
Momma Dyan with her Baby Jen.
Family playtime.
Celebrating our daughter in Bristol.
Manchester Daily Express/Getty Images
Bon voyage! On our way to England to introduce Jennifer to Elsie, Cary’s mother.
Cary and the apple of his eye.
“Can you please give it a little more gas, Dyan?” I never took to horse riding quite like Cary did. At left is our friend, the journalist Roddy Mann.
Frank Sinatra’s weekend soirée for Rosalind Russell. Twenty-five thousand dollars is still a lot of money for a party, but the same affair today could have cost as much as a quarter-million dollars.
Loving life.
Malibu days.
Three generations: Me, Mom, and Jennifer. I finally let my naturally curly hair do its own thing!
With my dad, Ben Friesen, at a party in Hawaii. People see this picture and think it’s me with Cary. Hmmm, I wonder why . . .
Above: Poolside with my grown-up baby.
Joyce Ostin
My amazing brother, David Friesen, extraordinary bassist, known all over the world for his musical compositions.
Mom and Dad.
With Elliott Gould (left) and New York mayor John Lindsay at the premiere of Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.
Finally moving to my own beat.
With Magic Johnson, the greatest basketball star of all time, cheering on our Lakers.
On top of the world.
About the Author
DYAN CANNON is an award-winning film and television actress, director, screenwriter, editor, and producer. She is the first woman in the history of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to be nominated for Oscars both as an actress and as a filmmaker. She has matched those two honors with two Golden Globe awards nominations for her acting, and won one, to which she added a New York Film Critics award. Dyan Cannon lives in Hollywood and is at courtside for every Los Angeles Lakers home game.
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Credits
Cover design by Robin Bilardello
Cover photograph © by Bettmann/Corbis
Unless otherwise credited, all photographs and art courtesy of the author.
Copyright
DEAR CARY. Copyright © 2011 by Bonkers Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition September 2011 ISBN: 9780062079138
FIRST EDITION
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Cannon, Dyan.
Dear Cary : a memoir / Dyan Cannon. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-06-196140-3
1. Grant, Cary, 1904–1986. 2. Grant, Cary, 1904–1986—Marriage. 3. Cannon, Dyan. 4. Cannon, Dyan—Marriage. 5. Motion picture actors and actresses—United States—Biography. 6. Wives—United States—Biography. I. Title.
PN2287.G675C36 2011
791.43'028092—dc23
2011018260
11 12 13 14 15 OV/RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Contents
Chapter 1: When in Rome
Chapter 2: Back to Earth
Chapter 3: Lunch, Not Marriage
Chapter 4: Have Girlfriend, Will Travel
Chapter 5: Riding High
Chapter 6: Table for Two
Chapter 7: Fork in the Road
Chapter 8: Nobody’s Perfect
Chapter 9: Enamored
Chapter 10: Time Flies
Chapter 11: Discovered
Chapter 12: Getting to Know You
Chapter 13: Oneness
Chapter 14: Game Time
Chapter 15: Coming Up Short
Chapter 16: Long-Distance Love
Chapter 17: The Middle Finger
Chapter 18: The Dismantling Effect
Chapter 19: The Big Sting
Chapter 20: A Coke and a Kiss
Chapter 21: Happy New Year
Chapter 22: Emergencies
Chapter 23: Hormones and Hamburgers