Dear Nobody (22 page)

Dear Nobody,

I woke up coughing around three in the morning. After I stopped coughing, it just got worse. I couldn't breathe. I had these nasty, sharp pains all through my lungs. The nurse called in three resident doctors and a respiratory therapist. I got a treatment and some of the pain left but then five minutes later I got worse. I felt so exhausted; all I could do was try and breathe. Sitting up for the doctors felt impossible. They gave me oxygen and told me to stay calm. I felt like the shit in my lungs was turning into cement—like I was being stabbed in the chest.

Even though the pain was worse than before, I lied and told the doctors I felt much better. I didn't want them to be in the room if this was it…

Mary Rose died from complications caused by cystic fibrosis on February 12, 1999.

Dear Nobody,

I guess I like to be alone and relax in solitude, but I also love huge crowds of people. Someday I want crowds to come to see me, en masse, just to watch me. Sing, act, speak, whatever, I don't care, as long as it's all for me.

I want to be so rich that I could donate millions to different charities—and still be FILTHY RICH. I want diamonds, gold, silver, rings, bracelets, and tons of necklaces and earrings. I want to see my reflection from an extravagant dressing room vanity decorated with satin, lace, feathers and bright lights that make my skin glow. Gowns with sequins and lace, rhinestones and silk, and only the best patent leather shoes (with heels) will be all I ever wear in public (unless of course one of my character roles call for something else) and my roles of course will only be starring ones, and none of my understudies will be as talented or beautiful or loved (unless they are full of MY characteristics). Jacuzzis, spas, heated kidney-bean-shaped swimming pools, and extravagant bubble baths in gigantic bathrooms will be my leisure hangouts (WHEN I'm not signing autographs, or visiting children's hospitals, or at book signings).

My death would bring melancholy to nations all over, and they will mourn my loss with such honor and respect that I'll never be forgotten.

I can dream, can't I?

Love, Mary Rose XOXO

THE END

When Gillian and Legs first told me that they loved Mary Rose through her journals and wanted to take on the project of having them published, I could hardly believe it. I mean, what were the chances that two talented and experienced authors would happen upon these journals—and love them—and want to see them published? Here were the authors of one of Mary Rose's favorite books that she owned,
Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk
interested in collaborating with her.

To consider that Mary Rose's thoughts, words, stories would be out there to be shared with so many other people was overwhelming. I knew, as did everyone else who knew Mary Rose, what an incredibly amazing person she was. Now, through this book, all those who come to know her will keep her in their hearts—her wild humor, her gifted imagination, her excruciating pain, and her heroic strength. This is her new beginning.

As with most new beginnings there were obstacles. Making the decision to share Mary Rose's journals was the first one. Would Mary Rose want her thoughts and feelings shared with others, especially people who didn't know her? I wrestled with this and also asked a few of her friends and family for their opinion. Consensus was, although not unanimously, that since Mary Rose loved writing, storytelling, and dreamed of being an author someday, she would want this. Most believe, including me, that she even had some involvement in helping with connections that made this book happen. So with that being decided, her dream of being a published author will be fulfilled. Those of us who love her hope that her story will help other young people who may be experiencing seemingly insurmountable struggles of their own.

There were also legal obstacles. The law required signatures from both Mary Rose's parents to get copyrights for her journals. It took months and significant expense to locate Mary Rose's father, and when he finally was contacted he was indifferent and uncooperative. His main concern was what she may have written about him. He was assured there would be nothing. It seemed that after having very little involvement with her in life, he now wanted to control what was left. Gillian, Legs, and I persevered through this process, and after lengthy and discouraging setbacks we were able to move forward with the copyrights. Again, if not for Gillian and Legs' support, this would not have been possible.

Finally here it is. The book completed. Although I am not proud of some of my life choices when I was younger, I could not be any more proud of Mary Rose. Her sister and I miss her every day and love her deeply. Although Mary Rose often wrote to express feeling lonely, angry, betrayed by others or her own body, Mary Rose knew she was loved. I know she didn't focus her writing on positive things or happy occasions in her life and at times she exaggerated the negative. That's OK. Her writing helped her through the darker times and I'm immensely grateful she found some solace with that.

A special thank you to the Geller family, especially Lauren, for introducing Mary Rose's journals to Legs and Gillian. If not for your interest and enthusiasm for her writing, her journals most likely would still be in the bedroom closet where you and Leanne first saw them and started to read.

I want to express my overwhelming gratitude to Gillian McCain and Legs McNeil for taking the time to read the journals of a girl you didn't know who was writing to nobody. I could not be happier that you felt and appreciated the life force of Mary Rose through her journals and that you took the time and energy to do something extraordinary for her. Also your kindness and sensitivity towards me has been astounding and you will always have a special place in my mind and heart.

To Mary Rose—my little rose bud—

I LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU

Forever and Always

Mom

We would like to thank Jonathon Marder for giving our manuscript to Joni Evans, who in turn gave it to Kirby Kim, who sold it to Sourcebooks. We are grateful to all of you.

Also to Fred and Regina and their daughter Lauren—this book couldn't have happened without you guys.

For design, scanning, copyediting, and inscribing we like to thank Kristina Berg, Tom Hearn, Ryan Adie, Keoin Nostadt, and Megan Cump.

And all of our lawyers: for early legal advice, Rick Rheinhold; for contract advice, Eric Brown. And for fighting through the trenches with great patience, Keith McWhirk. Keith, we couldn't have done this without you.

For a supportive shoulder and an eager ear, James Marshall.

To the Sourcebooks team: Todd, Leah, Cat, and anyone else who touched this book.

For all of our early readers who encouraged us not to give up: Ann Evans, Tom and Ann Hearn, Amy Haben, Joanne Sorenson, Rebecca Vasquez, Bob and Elizabeth Gruen, Mike DeCapite, Matt Muhall and Ami Dushkowitch, Eric Swenson, Jo Ann Wasserman, Janice Johnson, Diana Rickard, Barb DeLong, and for any names we missed, please forgive us.

To the H.H. McCain family for always being there for us.

But mostly, to Mary Rose's mother and sister, for putting their trust in us.

LONG LIVE, MARY ROSE!