A First

A year ago I chose to brave traffic and parking to attend an on-camera workshop in Hollywood at the Actors Link Argentum location. There I had the opportunity to work with Casting Director Scott David.  After watching me do my scene, the first words out of Scott's mouth were, "Where have you been?” - ”You are now on my list." Now, I know he said a lot of other really nice things in between, but somehow those were the words that kept ringing in my ear. It was my own Sally Fields moment, "You like me!" A little acknowledgment goes a long way.

Scott is a really personable guy, almost impossible not to like. Better yet, action follows his words. A week later I was reading for Criminal Minds producers in a "luxurious" doublewide trailer. I didn't book that first time.... or the other two times that spring.  Scott’s feedback each time was invaluable. I have colleagues who've been in that room 12 and 14 times before they booked. Scott and team keep bringing you back when they see something in you. Booking the room is real.

In October 2014 I was again called into read and a week later I shot a scene with Shemar Moore and Matthew Gray Gubler. I had a blast. Everyone on the Criminal Minds team was welcoming and professional. It could not have been a more optimal experience for a newbie's first shot on primetime network show.

I am so blessed that Scott David opened the door to this first in my life. I trust that many other doors are opening now as a result. I will alway be grateful. Thank you Scott.

Angela My Angel

Mama's Boy

February 10, 2016 


My mother Angela, died today. While heartbroken that my number one fan is gone. It hurts more to know that I won't have her to call on the phone to share news, and answer her questions abut various Facebook or Instagram posts that have confused her. Something I know she did with all of her children. What follows is a tribute I wrote a while ago - to my angel.

I was lucky enough to spend time with her in hospital, and tell her once again that I love her. After one of those times she said, "Thank you...you sure say that a lot" and smiled. It was even more heart warming to watch my daughter Fi talk and work with her through the weekend. As my mother went in and out of lucidity, their conversations went from lovely to ridiculous. Through it all their love and care for each other rang true.  I know that she had that same relationship with many of her grandchildren. I was lucky enough to see it for one last time. 

I saw her face light up when she Face-timed with her first great grandchild Nathan - and heard the love in her voice as she acknowledged some of her other grandchildren on the phone. As I said goodbye, I knew that moving on was her best path, and yet I still selfishly wanted her to stay.

Her struggle to decide whether to go or stay was so apparent in our conversations in hospital. She talked about the people waiting for her, Jim first and foremost, and her parents. "They need me". In the next breath she would ask about the new babies and weddings that seem always imminent in our family. I let her know that whatever path she chose, we were all okay with her decision. Her care and concern and worry for all of us was unending. As she said so clearly to her grandchild Julene, "I love you - forever."

I do not know how to sum up a life. I simply know that my mother loved me. That is enough.

I want my brothers, sisters and family to know that I love them. I want to thank Monte and Stacey in particular for all of the time and care of mother in recent years. They have been incredible with her. I grieve with my siblings and share your joy in knowing that Mom and Dad are together again. We all know what true love looks like.

Love,

Lon 


Angela May Fiala
March 3, 1933 - February 10, 2016

I don’t remember being born – but it seems like mom has been there for me, all my life. There is a lot of evidence that we are related – the least important of which are the comments from people who ask my mother if I am her brother when we go out together.

I am blessed to have a mother who has unwaveringly loved me. I remember asking her why she would always buy tickets for two nights to see one of my performances in high school. She explained that on the first night she could only see me, and on the second night she could actually see the show. I have since experienced this phenomenon when watching my daughter Sarah.

So how do you pay tribute to someone who has raised, loved and supported you your entire life? I’ve experienced her love, her tears, her rage and her fears. I’ve seen her in pain as well as in joy. I’ve watched her grow up and shared her love of dance, music, theatre and film. I’ve hurt her, surprised her, scared her, nursed her and loved her. So I guess; a thank you and an apology for all of the challenges I’ve thrown her way, would be a good start.

My memories are fuzzy prior to my parent’s accident, and my father’s death. My first conscious memories of my mother are seeing her and my father lying bloody and broken on the cold cement floor of the public beach house at Lake Calhoun. Both had received serious head injuries, my father taking the brunt of the blow that had left my mother’s face and jaw broken, not to mention various other wounds.

In the fog of my shock I remember repeatedly asking my mother for my grandparent’s phone number; which, miraculously she was able to give me though she was barely conscious.

When I say I watched my mother grow up, this may indeed have been her re-birth. This was the day and the moment in time that the responsibility to raise five children, which she had shared with my father, became hers alone.

I can speak with authority on how drastically my reality changed in that moment. I can only imagine the weight of the change in her reality. She moved from loving wife and mother, to sole bread-winner, grieving wife and still mother of five in a nanosecond.

When she came home from the hospital she appeared so fragile. As the glassiness in her eyes slowly waned, her jaw unwired, and her wounds healed; my mother reappeared and moved forward. We needed her to.

Time has changed my perspective on many things; but not – my mother. I love her.

Learning other people’s stories about their parents has made me appreciate even more, how blessed I am to have an Angela, for a mother.

Meet my Angels

I write a blog called Uniquely Lon. The other day I began to write a piece about gratitude. It ended up being about Angels and Teachers. I realized as I kept remembering more people from my past to express my gratitude to;  it was likely I would meet more people to thank in the future; so a separate space should be created. So welcome to Gratefully Yours, Lon.

ANGELS

Another angel has shown up in my life, well actually more than one, I think I'm learning to recognize them faster.

I'm not talking about Victoria's Secret Angels, Charlie's Angels or the California Angels. I'm talking about personal angels, who show up to guide you with love, laughter, a swift kick in the pants, and sometimes tears.

In my experience angels are usually living, though they don't leave when they die. I can invoke their presence when I need them. For some people they show up with four legs and bark. For others, white robes may be required. Some of mine have come and gone without me realizing, and only in retrospect have I appreciated what they taught me.

So in the following posts, I will be thanking the angels I have met, will meet, and those who are with me now, and now, and now.

Privacy rocks!: Many of my angels are not public figures, and out of respect for their privacy I will not use their real names without permission. Others have died or have public persona’s and I will link you to their websites when possible.