Aww...Read this written by Desi Arnaz Jr.

[x1LucyFanx]

Women's Day
"My Mom, Lucille Ball"
by Desi Arnaz Jr.
March 5, 1991

We all loved Lucy, but no one knew her better- or loved her more- than her children. Desi Arnaz, Jr., shares warm memories of his mother.

Nearly two years after her death, on April 26, 1989, Lucille Ball remains the world's best-loved comedienne. But what was Lucy really like behind closed doors? A new CBS TV movie Lucy and Desi: Before the Laughter claims to reveal the tempestrous truth about the wacky redhead and her Cuban-born husband. But perhaps no one knew Lucy better than her children, "Little" Lucie and Desi, Jr. Her son, now 38, shares warm memories of a woman who loved her husband deeply, struggled to keep her family together and was a devoted mother. His story reminds us why we all loved Lucy.

Sometimes I catch sight of a photo or find an I Love Lucy rerun on TV. And then it hits me: how much I miss her. Our relationship went through some painful stages, but Mom's love was intense and tenacious.

My parents were probably the most famous couple in Hollywood when I was growing up, but they didn't act like stars at home. In many ways I had an ordinary upbringing. That was largely Mom's doing; family was extremely important to her. She had my sister Lucie when she was 39, after ten years of marriage and two miscarriages. I came along when she was 41. I think Mom loved us more simply because she'd wanted children for so long.

She spent alot of time with Lucie and me. She attended school plays and Little League games, helped me with my homework, and made an effort to get to know my friends. She took us to Disneyland and followed us around with a home movie camara. She even tape recorded interviews with us. Mom saved everything from our childhood and kept boxes and boxes of momentoes-including baby shoes, our drawings, and all the gifts her fans sent when I was born. "The years go by so quickly," she used to say.

Mom tried to pass on the solid values she had learned from her own mother, "You're not special because you're famous," she said. If we broke the rules we got spanked, grounded or sent to our rooms. Lucie and I had to make our beds and pick up our clothes. Although Mom wanted us to enjoy her wealth, she wanted us to learn the value of money too. At times she was extravagant: On one of my birthdays, Mom had a carnival set up in our backyard- complete with a Ferris wheel, clowns and a live elephant! But our weekly allowance, which started at .50 never exceeded $5. And while some stars' children went to school in chauffeur-driven cars, we rode the bus.

Off screen Mom wasn't Lucy Ricardo. She didn't get into outlandish predicaments. When she tried to tell a joke she usually got the punchline wrong-and she'd laugh at her mistake. To Mom comedy was all character, and nothing was funnier than your own pretensions.

In 1960, when I was 7, my parents split up. Dad moved from Beverly Hills to Del Mar, near San Deigo. Their divorce was extremeley painful for Mom because she tried so hard to prevent it. She consulted psychiatrists and even arranged an elborate European vacation to try to bring the family together. When Dad's drinking and womanizing finally became too much for her, she let go. Yes, she was sad and angry, but she didn't impose those feelings on my sister, Lucie, and me.

My sister and I were never put in the middle. Mom encouraged us to have a relationship with Dad, and we saw him often. In fact, their divorce was so noncombative that they used the same lawyer and agreed to split their financial empire 50-50.

After the divorce, my parents' relationship improved in many ways. They talked often and laughed the old way. Mom introduced my stepfather, Gary Morton, to Dad before marrying him in 1961. And she warmly approved of Dad's second wife, Edie.

Mom told Lucie and me that didn't expect Gary to take Dad's place. "You'll always have your father," she said. We already knew that, but it wasn't enough. We took Mom to see The Parent Trap-the movie where Hayley Mills reunites her divorced parents-about five times. "Can't you say you're sorry and go back?" I asked. She shook her head. "People change," she said, sadly.

I relize now that Mom's love for Dad really was love, so it never changed to hate. She kept Dad's wedding ring all her life. He'd lost it in the ocean during a Hawaiian vacation shortly before they broke up. Several years later a fan found it, noticed it was inscribed "To Desi with Love From Lucy," and returned it to Mom. In the meantime, Dad had had a duplicate ring made. He kept that all his life too.

At 12, I formed a band with two grammar school friends, Billy Hinsche and Dean Martin, Jr. Frank Sinatra helped us get a recording contract, and Dino, Desi and Billy became a big success. We earned thousands of dollars, played on the Ed Sullivan Show, and were chased by crowds of screaming girls. We socialized with Elvis and the Beach Boys. I was also intoduced to drugs and alcohol. I looked like I was having a great time. Inside, I felt hollow. Was this all there was? The question terrified me. I told myself all I needed was something else-more money, another girl, a different kind of drug.

Mom and I started to fight. She was worried that success had come too easily for me, and got angry when I ignored my schoolwork and brought home failing grades. She pleaded with me to get help for my drinking and drug habits. But I felt industructible. We argued alot and sometimes stopped speaking to each other for weeks. I spent more and more time at Dad's house. He had a love for life that I admired, and his own drinking problem prevented him from coming down too hard on me.

By 15 I was financially independent. I still lived at Mom's house, though, until we had a big argument on our front lawn at 6 A.M. I was just getting home after being out all night with my new girlfriend. I thought I was in love, and that love justified being crazy and impulsive. As I got out of my car, Mom and Gary were already at the front door. She'd been up most of the night frantically calling the police and the hospitals, and she looked tired and tense. "I'm in love!" was all I could say.

"Don't you see that your actions affect other people?" she asked. "How could you be so irresponsible?" Later we talked. "Desi, you have to choose," Mom said. "You can either live here and follow the rules, or you can leave. But if you go, you're entirely on your own."

"I can take care of myself," I insisted. It was a sad moment: A part of my life was ending. I already belonged to the adult world and I couldn't go back to being a regular teenager. So although I was only 16, I chose to move into my own apartment. Over the years I drifted farther and farther away emotionally.

Mom kept trying to reach out to me. She encouraged me to bring my girlfriends over to the house. Although the press made them out to be enemies, Mom actually liked Patty Duke. What she didn't like was the idea of me, at 17, having a relationship with a 23 year-old divorcee. As for Liza Minnelli-another divorcee, 7 years my senior, whom I became involved with several years later-she said, "I feel like a mother to her." When I married Linda Purl in 1980, she gave us her blessing.

Unfortunately, i couldn't accept my mother's helping hand. For one thing, I was so stubbornly sure I had all the answers. For another, drugs were taking over my life. At 18 I had already experimented with LSD, mescaline, cocaine, Quaaludes and marijuana. By 23 I was out of control. I couldn't maintain a relationship with anyone.

Finally in 1982 I reached a breaking point. I was in a hotel in Las Vegas where I'd taken part in a tennis tournament. I felt miserable- my marriage had recently ended-and I'd gone on a three-day drug binge to try to ease the loneliness. But it didn't work. At 29 I was dying physically and spirtually.

I had been inching toward change. About two years before, I'd joined a free self-development program called Success Without Stress, sponsored by the nonprofit New Life Foundation. That's when I first relized I had to change my life completly, from the inside out. Finally, I was ready to act.

I phoned Mom. She was the first person I thought of. "I guess you're wondering where I am," I began, because I was supposed to meet her several hours later to do a talk show in Los Angeles. "I'm not coming. I need help."

"Good," she said. "I understand. I'll help you." She never said one word about my leaving her in the lurch.

Within a week I began treatment at Scripps Memorial Hospital in La Jolla, California. Mom was a crucial particapant in my recovery. She endured family-confrontation therapy with five other families. She had no hesitations-but the others couldn't forget her public image. On the first day everyone was wearing an "I Love Lucy" button. Mom graciously said, "Isn't that nice? Thank you," but made it clear she was there to help me.

During the sessions, I told Mom I loved her and appreciated all the advantages she'd worked so hard to provide, but that I needed something beyond money and success.

Mom talked about her feelings of guilt. "I keep thinking I should have been able to prevent your problems," she said. "All I wanted was for you to be happy." She described how scared she'd felt when she saw me destroying myself. Suddenly, I saw how much I'd hurt her. I relized I wasn't seperate and isolated. That was nine years ago and I haven't used drugs or alcohol since.

When Mom went into the hospital in 1989, I went to her side immediately. We spent some very quiet and peaceful times together. We didn't make speeches. We'd already said what was in our hearts during the previous seven years. She died about 5 A.M. on April 26. How can I began to describe the way I felt? Shock, grief, loneliness, horror-the words seem shallow and inadequate. It's still hard for me to adjust to Mom's death. But I don't want to dwell on sorrow. I have to make the most of my own life. My parents would have wanted that. Lucy and Desi always believed in going forward. They believed in joy, laugter and love, and the spirit of their happiness is a great gift to me.

http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionC...1_article.html

[LUCILLE BALL]

I guess Desi Jr. Appreciates his mom and what she did for him, unfortuantely his sister cannot come to grips with it yet.

[onlyonelucy]

Originally posted by LUCILLE BALL
I guess Desi Jr. Appreciates his mom and what she did for him, unfortuantely his sister cannot come to grips with it yet.

I am thinking to myself, how in the world can Lucie say that her mother didn't do anything with her? Desi Jr must be lying, huh?

[crazyredhead]

Why would Lucie go and say stuff like that if something didn't really happen between them?

Anyway, I think that's very sweet of Desi, Jr.

[*ShortCake*]

I love that article written by Desi Jr. Thanks for posting it

[SPLAIN]

I always liked that kid! What a great article and yes, although i had read it when it came out, i forgot about it and will now print it out, thanks, beautiful article. What a great antidote to MY MOTHER NEVER MADE ME FEEL LOVED! Although instead of picking at Lucie, we should remember what Jen said, yeah, maybe she needs more time to sort everything out in her head, these things can take forever sometimes.

[MagsLovesLucy]

I love that article. It's wonderful, thank you for posting it.

[onlyonelucy]

Originally posted by crazyredhead
Why would Lucie go and say stuff like that if something didn't really happen between them?

I am not saying that Lucie & Lucy didn't have their problems because I know they did. My gosh, they went without speaking to one another for a long time. Seems to me that there was some sort of problem there BUT what I cannot understand is why Lucie didn't feel loved by her mother. I know first-hand that a mother-daughter relationship isn't the easiest thing in the world. Look at what Lucille had to learn from. Take a moment and think about her childhood. DeDe left her with Aunt Lola and then with that mean Sophia Peterson. After her daddy died, all Lucy wanted was another Daddy. When DeDe married Ed and Lucy was a small girl she approached Ed with, "Are you our new daddy?" and all Ed said was, "Just call me Ed". She was from a hard working family and Lucy & Fred themselves as children had to work and help the family a LOT. Desi on the other hand as a child had everything handed to him. He was raised in a nice home, had cars, money, boats and other things. Lucy & Desi's childhoods followed them into their adulthood AND their parenthood. It affected their parenting skills immensely (sp?). Anyway, back to little Lucie.......I don't doubt her mother loved her and I don't doubt she loved her mother. I just don't understand why she brings up the stories about her father and how he spent time with her telling her about the sunset but doesn't mention her mother reading to her or following her around with that video camera at Disney. I don't know...

[onlyonelucy]

Originally posted by SPLAIN
What a great antidote to MY MOTHER NEVER MADE ME FEEL LOVED

That's all I am saying too.

[crazyredhead]

Desi died in his daughter's arms.

[Mickey]

Yes, very good point there, Crazyredhead. There is nothing more intense than that, and nothing that makes a relationship more special, in a weird kind of a way. It seals your love for somebody.

[crazyredhead]

*nods*

[ricardo/mertz]

That was a very nice article. Thanks for posting.

[SPLAIN]

Yes dying in his daughter's arms is something i shall never forget. Poor Lucy died alone in a hospital room because the nurse was too expensive. Give enjoyment to generation after generation and die alone as your thank you.

[ricardo/mertz]

Desi stated in his interview that he was at his mom's side in the hospital. What happened? Did he step out and when he came back it was too late?