An Invisible Thread

by Laura Schroff

  And then I sat down at that table and had dinner with my family.

  Dear Laurie:

  I’m writing this letter to let you know the impact you’ve had on my life. When I look back on everything that’s happened, I realize that if I hadn’t met you, I would not be the man I am today. I am eternally grateful for the love and care that you’ve shown me through the years. You’ve taught me how to dream, how to trust people, how to be a productive member of society, and, most of all, how to be a good man and a great father.

  It all began on that day long ago when I asked you for money, and you walked right by me. At that moment, Laurie, I’m sure I thought you were just another one of those rich, uppity white people I’d always been told about.

  But then you came back, and now I realize how black-and-white my world was before I met you. The beliefs that I’d been raised on were based on only one point of view. My mother and my grandmother were brought up in a time of segregation. That, coupled with a lack of education, is a recipe for distrust. When I first started seeing you, my grandmother would say, “You’d better stay away from that white bitch.” But in time, once she saw how I was benefitting from our relationship, she started saying things like, “That lady really cares about you,” and, “How’s that lady doing? Are you gonna see her again soon?” My grandmother went from flat-out not trusting or respecting you to believing you were a guardian angel God sent to watch over me.

  I remember you asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. At that point, I’d never looked that far down the road; I just lived from day to day. I was more worried about what I was going to eat the next day than about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I didn’t know if I even would grow up, given the way I was living, but after meeting you, I began to broaden my view on my life. I began to think I could actually get a job of some kind. For the first time ever, I could picture myself as an adult, and maybe even see myself working as a police officer.

  Even then, though, there was a problem, and that was how much I doubted myself. I doubted myself because I’d always been told I was illiterate. I was a bad student in school, so I was given an Individualized Education Program evaluation. My mother attended my IEP evaluation, and for some reason she came out believing I couldn’t read or write. My entire family began to tell me I couldn’t read or write. I knew that I could read and I also knew that I could write, although I wrote very slowly, but because I was constantly teased and reminded that I was illiterate, I began to think that it didn’t matter if I could or couldn’t—that I was destined to live the kind of life the rest of the men in my family had.

  And then, Laurie, you came to my rescue again. Just when I thought I was doomed, just when that first dream you encouraged me to dream had been all but shattered, you told me about how you struggled in school when you were my age. I can’t tell you how much your sharing that meant to me. I started to think that if someone like you—a person who was so articulate, who had such abundance in her life—could have experienced hardships of her own and overcome them, then so could I. After that, I completely ignored anyone who would sing the song of my incompetence. I decided that your opinion of me was fact, and anyone who didn’t agree with it was just plain jealous or unhappy with themselves. That mind-set changed everything for me. To this day, it still helps me deal effectively with issues in my life. To this day, it gives me the courage to dare to dream.

  Laurie, there are so many things you taught me, so many experiences I could never have had if it weren’t for you. I remember all the times you took me to see your sister’s family on Long Island, but a couple of visits stand out. I remember the day your niece Brooke was crying hysterically when she found out Santa Claus wasn’t real. I remember thinking, “Uhoh, she’d better be quiet before she gets a beating.” I remember seeing her father, Bruce, come in and thinking, “Aw, man, time for her whipping.” But to my great surprise, and delight, all he did was console and comfort his daughter. He picked her up and wiped her tears, and he whispered something in her ear and then gave her a hug and that was that. I remember thinking Bruce was the best father in the world, and I learned something about being a father that day.

  The next visit that stands out is the first time we all sat down at your sister’s big dining room table. I honestly didn’t know that tables came that big, but that’s not what fascinated me. It wasn’t the food or the nice silverware, either. What really intrigued me was all the love that was passed across that table. There was one story after another and so much laughter. It’s a feeling I couldn’t explain back then, but now I know that feeling is called family. It’s a feeling I get every night when I am with my wife and children.

  Because of you, Laurie, I got to see the many different ways people show they love and care for each other. I’m thinking of all those lunches you prepared for me and put in those brown paper bags. I realize some people might not understand why the paper bags were important. But to me, they showed that someone had taken the time to make me lunch. Someone had actually thought of me; someone cared about me. Laurie, you took the time to make my lunches and you showed me that you cared about me, and all those kids at school could see that someone cared about me, too. I just can’t thank you enough for all those brown paper bags.

  The times we spent together were the best times of my life. I had tons of fun playing games and hanging out, but I also learned more with you than I ever did anywhere else. I didn’t realize it then, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve started to notice that all those little life lessons I picked up are a guiding force in my life today. Lessons like, “You don’t have to fight all the time to prove how tough you are, Maurice.” Do you remember telling me that? Maybe you don’t. But I’ll never forget it. You showed me it was more important to be mentally tough than physically tough, and that is a lesson I try to impart to my own children today.

  Finally, and this is important, I want you to know why I disappeared and didn’t contact you for all that time. Back then, I wanted to tell you what was really going on in my life, but I felt I couldn’t. I knew you were unhappy that I had a child so young, and I couldn’t tell you I had a second child, too. The thing I hated more than anything was disappointing you, not after all you’d done for me. I also felt you had taught me all I needed to know to make something of myself. So I stopped calling you, and I went out into the world on my own. And, Laurie, I was right: the things you taught me wound up saving my life.

  When I finally called you again, I reentered your life as a man, not a boy. I lived, and I loved, and I had children, and I’ve taught my children all the things that you taught me. And, most importantly, I love them just as much as you love me.

  I know An Invisible Thread is about an unusual friendship between two different people, but I think it is about much more than that. It is about a mother longing for a child and a child longing for a mother. That longing had nothing to do with umbilical cords or DNA. It had to do with two people who needed each other and who were destined to meet on the corner of 56th Street and Broadway. Every Monday, that mother got to know her son, and that son learned about his mother.

  And on those Mondays their hearts were sewn together with an invisible thread.

  I love you, Mom,

  To watch a video of Maurice’s toast at Laura’s fiftieth birthday party, simply download the free Microsoft Tag app at http:// gettag.mobi.

  Then scan the TAG with your phone’s camera to watch the video.

  Click it. Watch it.

  Howard authors on your Smartphone.

  To share your own Invisible Thread story, please visit www.aninvisiblethread.com.

  How do I begin to thank Maurice for coming into my life and changing it forever? Over the years, many people have told me how lucky Maurice was to have met me, but my response was always, “No, I was lucky to have met him.” Maurice, you have brought so much joy into my life and showed me in many ways the true meaning of friendship, and for that all I can say is, “Thank you, with all my heart.” Thank yo
u also to Maurice’s wife and my dear friend Michelle, for being there for Maurice when I was not. I am so proud of the two of you and your exceptional, loving family.

  My very deepest thanks to my dear mother, for her amazing strength and unconditional love, and to my father, who was great when he was good. You for showed me the true meaning of hard work. Because of what you instilled in me, I was able to have a remarkable career in advertising. And, to my brother Frank, who is at peace and will always be dearly loved. I think of you every day.

  There is an old saying, “You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family.” That may be true, but I couldn’t have chosen sisters and brothers more wonderful than the ones I have. Annette Lubsen, Nancy Johansen, and Steven Carino—thank you for allowing me to open up our lives and share our story with the world. Most important, thank you for the incredible support and love you have shown me not only through this entire process but throughout my entire life.

  To my brother-in-law Bruce Lubsen, thank you for showing Maurice how important it is to be an understanding, loving, and comforting father. You had a tremendous impact on Maurice, and you play an integral role in his life today. To Colette Lubsen-Reid, Brooke Lubsen, and Jena Johansen, my sweet and loving nieces, you have been there for me every step of the way. Your constant interest and support is incredible, and I love you all very much. To my brother-in-law John Johansen and my nephews Christian Johansen and Derek Lubsen—we are so proud of all of you. To my mother’s sister and brother, Aunt Diana Robedee and Uncle Pat Procino, thank you for always keeping us close in your hearts.

  The name of this book is relevant to another special relationship in my life. My coauthor Alex and I worked together for seventeen years at Time Inc., and our paths never crossed. He was on the edit side and I was in advertising, but through the help of my friend Martha Nelson, we were brought together. Thank you, Alex, for recognizing the power of my story and for committing to help me tell it. Just like Maurice, you were someone I was destined to meet, and I’d like to think that, once again, this was my mother orchestrating from high above.

  A very special thank-you to my dear friend and mentor Valerie Salembier, who wrote the beautiful, heartfelt foreword for this book. You were the first person I told about my new friend, and I thank you for believing I knew what I was doing. Your love, support, and friendship over thirty-plus years have been simply incredible.

  So many people have untold stories, and without our powerful literary agent our story would have stayed untold, too. To Jan Miller, thank you for believing our book could make a difference. There aren’t enough words to express my gratitude to you. You and your team at Dupree/Miller have been so incredibly supportive, and it is an honor to work with you all.

  A very special thanks to Nena Madonia, for her relentless support and for helping to make sure An Invisible Thread found the right home. Nena, you have been such a remarkable partner through this entire process. I am so proud to call you not only my agent but, more important, my very dear friend.

  The right home for a book makes all the difference, and how lucky for us that Jonathan Merkh and Becky Nesbitt at Howard Books not only embraced our story but did so with such passion. You loved it from the beginning. I will always be indebted to the both of you, and I cannot thank all of you enough. Jessica Wong, our talented editor, what can I say about your unyielding support and obvious love for our story? Thank you for making our journey an extraordinary and seamless one. You have been our champion. A special thanks to the brilliant and talented team at Howard Books, especially Betty Woodmancy and Jennifer Smith.

  A very special thank-you to all of my friends at Time Inc. To Martha Nelson, whom I met at Ms. magazine—how lucky and happy I am that our paths continued to cross throughout my career. You have always been there for me, and I thank you for helping me connect with Alex. To Paul Caine, who remembers my early days with Maurice and who has always been a true champion of our relationship. I can’t say how much I appreciate your constant encouragement. To David Geithner, who has shown enormous enthusiasm for my story, and to his colleagues Rebecca Sanhueza and Nancy Valentino. And a special mention to the amazing PR team of Sandi Shurgin-Werfel and Heidi Krupp.

  To all of my friends at USA Today who were so supportive of my relationship with Maurice, thank you. A special thanks to Lou and Donna Cona, who had such empathy for Maurice—and brought him bags of clothing when he needed them most.

  Teachers are paid to teach, but in the case of Miss Kim House, she did more than teach—she cared. Thank you for the enormous compassion you showed Maurice and for how you went above and beyond the call of duty. I commend you, and so should the highest powers in the New York City school system because, in you, they have someone who has made a real difference in the lives of children.

  I believe people come into our lives for a reason, and that is the case with my very dear friend and advisor Laura Lynne Jackson. Thank you for sharing your very special gift with me. Your words of encouragement, insight, and support helped me believe our book would happen. When there was no word, you kept encouraging me to enjoy the downtime—you called it the calm before the storm. And you were so right! You have brought an enormous amount of peace and comfort into my life.

  Over many, many years I’ve been so blessed with the great gift of friendship. Friends do not come in beautiful blue boxes with white satin bows; they just show up and change your life. To all of the dear friends who have been there through so many of my ups and downs, I can only hope I repaid a fraction of the love and support you gave me. A heartfelt thank-you to Christina Albee and Gregg Goldsholl and sweet Clare, Lori Cohn, June Deane, Susan Egan, Mary Gallagher-Vassilakos, Susan Goldfarb, Barbara Groner-Robinton, Cherie and Joseph Guccione, Scott Jacobs, Lori Ressa-Kyle, Nora and Ed McAniff, Darcy Parriott-Phillips, Mary Phillips, Brette Popper and Paul Spraos, Lauren Price, Andrea Rogan, Phoebe Rothkopf, Kim Schechter, Janet Shechter, Lori Levine-Silver, Donna Smith, Sue and John Spahlinger, Pam Stanger, Stacie Sullivan, Lynn Ruane-Tuttle, Michael Wellner, and Kevin White. Thank you also to my friend and hairdresser, Liell Hilligoss at Pierre Michel, and to my photographer, Joseph Moran.

  Finally, I’d like to thank all of you, the readers of this book. I hope you, too, will look at your own lives and think about how an invisible thread has connected you to the special people in your lives. I believe it does not happen by accident.

  Laura Schroff

  I feel incredibly lucky to have had Laura Schroff and Maurice Mazyck come into my life. Laura, thank you so much for trusting me to help tell your remarkable story. I’m in awe of your generous heart and beautiful spirit, and the way you live your life is an inspiration. Maurice, my fellow Knicks fan, I’m blown away by your strength and courage and conviction, and by your beautiful wife and children. You are a hero to me.

  Thank you to Larry Hackett and everyone else at People Magazine for letting me come in so late. Thank you to Martha Nelson, for endless support. Thank you to my great friend Susan Schindehette, simply the best, most graceful writer I know, and to everyone at MiWorld.com—you guys are the future. Thank you to the folks at Howard Books, especially Jonathan Merkh, Becky Nesbitt, and Jessica Wong. Thank you, Jan Miller and Nena Madonia, for being the best agents I’ve ever had, and easily the nicest, too. Thank you, Mark Apovian, for the mulligans.

  Thank you to Art and Nola Chester, for being such giving and lovely friends. A heartfelt thanks to my sister Tam, for her amazing generosity, and my sister Fran, for always being there to bail me out, and my brother Nick, who is my oldest and best friend. Thank you, Zach and Emily, for growing into such cool and amazing people—I love you both a ton—and to Gracie and Willie, who have a special place in my heart and always will. Thank you to my little ones—Manley, Guy, LiLi, Nino, and SheShe, I love you like crazy. Thank you to my wonderful friends Amy and Neil and Angie and Karen and Greg and of course Lindsay. And thank you, as always, to Rainey, who gave me key suggestions that made all the difference in this project. You
’re my rock.

  Alex Tresniowski

  A CONVERSATION WITH LAURA SCHROFF

  What made you want to write down your experience with Maurice and share it with others?

  In 1997, Good Housekeeping wrote a short article about my relationship with Maurice, and I received an overwhelming response from friends and colleagues in the ad community. I was continually told I should write a book and document our story. People loved the story and wanted to know more. But it was not until 2007, after I took an early retirement package from Time Inc. and moved to Florida, that I had enough time to begin contemplating the book. In the first few years that I was friends with Maurice, it never dawned on me that our story would be of any interest to other people, but as I started working on the book with my coauthor Alex Tresniowski, I began to realize there was a powerful message in the experiences Maurice and I shared. And so I became determined to share our story with the world.

  What were some of the challenges of writing An Invisible Thread? What did you enjoy most about this experience?

  I knew from the very beginning I needed someone like Alex to help me write my book. I mean, I knew what I wanted to say, and I knew what message I wanted the book to have, but I needed someone to help me shape and structure the story. It’s amazing to me how much effort and research goes into creating a book. The challenge for me was remaining faithful to the experiences Maurice and I shared while also making the story as dramatic and compelling for readers as possible. I wanted the book to convey how amazing and emotional and miraculous it was that Maurice and I found each other. It was also a challenge to relive all of the difficult moments of my childhood. That was harder and sadder than I thought it would be. But it was also kind of a blessing to be able to revisit my childhood and put it in some kind of context.