My Son Marshall, My Son Eminem (24 page)

BOOK: My Son Marshall, My Son Eminem

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They get into arguments like normal brothers, but it’s much harder for my boys, because there’s always someone on Marshall’s payroll playing politics, currying favors, and causing trouble between them.

As a mother, of course, I worry. But I do truly believe that Marshall will be back. I’m sure he’s biding his time, waiting for the right moment, and when he does return, he will be bigger and stronger and more successful than ever. I know my son, and he just doesn’t give up that easily.

Marshall’s divorce battle with Kim continued throughout 2006. It didn’t matter that their second union lasted less than three months or that they’d signed a prenup. They couldn’t agree on anything, and at one stage there was a very real threat that they’d end up going to trial.

The judge appointed a lawyer to mediate, and finally, on December 19, they reached an out-of-court settlement over property and shared custody. The Michigan media noted that their second divorce was subdued and dignified compared with the mud-slinging during the first.

Marshall, who was back at the top of the pop charts with the hip-hop artist and songwriter Akon and their Grammy-nominated collaboration “Smack That,” said not a word as he left the Macomb County Circuit Court.

He’d testily ended 2006—probably the worst year of his life—by explaining for the 100th time that he was not retiring, that he’d spent the past twelve months in the studio producing for his stable of protégés. The result was
Eminem Presents: The Re-Up
, featuring 50 Cent along with newcomers Bobby Creekwater, Stat Quo, and Ca$his. It debuted at number two on the Billboard chart in the second week of December to mixed reviews. Marshall appeared on seven tracks and was highly praised. But the critics were clearly expecting more. In Britain, the
Independent
called it “another water-treading exercise” with “just a sprinkling of new Eminem originals.” Other critics commented on the gunfire that blasts throughout the second track, “We’re Back,” and demanded to know if this was some kind of bizarre tribute to Proof, who appears posthumously in one verse.

Marshall responded, “The Re-up is about these new artists and songs. Those unreleased songs with Proof are coming. It isn’t fair to them or to the memory of Proof to mix them up.”

As his
annus horribilis
—as Queen Elizabeth II described 1992, when three of her children’s marriages broke up and her beloved Windsor Castle burned down—came to an end, Marshall was spinning discs on his Sirius radio station and promising new material galore. He’s signed up to play the bounty hunter Paladin in a big-screen, modern version of the 1950s TV series
Have Gun—Will Travel
, and is working on the soundtrack. Then he’s producing the next D-12 album, featuring previously recorded Proof tracks.

As his mother, I just wish he’d sit back and enjoy what he already has. He has fame—and money—beyond his wildest dreams, but it hasn’t made him happy. I worry he has forgotten the truly good times we had together. He started out saying his lyrics were a joke, and that I wasn’t to take them seriously. I played along with that, until he started to believe his own hype. We were not estranged until long after that unfortunate Fred Gibson lawsuit. I never intended to take his money, but I did want him to stop maligning me, and I felt a retraction letter might help. Yet things got out of control. He’s hurt me so much, but I’m his mom—I’ll forgive him anything.

When Marshall was growing up, I tried to protect him from the world. People warned me then not to shelter him from reality, but I couldn’t help it. He was my world. I gave him everything he wanted because I wanted him to be happy. I did the same with Nathan.

As a parent, maybe I should have been a strict disciplinarian. Maybe I should have spanked him, made him do chores, and taught him the value of money. He was terribly spoiled, and I have no one else to blame for that but myself. I was overprotective.

Yet if I had my time again, I would do most of it the same. Our house was always full of his friends. I looked out for them too, helped with whatever they needed, prepared them nice big meals, especially at Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and made sure they went to school. We all had so much fun and so many laughs. I did it because I watched my brothers struggle growing up. I always had a soft spot for kids as well as for older people. I mothered everyone, and I loved taking my granddaughter out for pizza.

My biggest regret is taking Kim in. In the beginning I thought everything would be wonderful. She was the daughter I’d always wanted. I had so many plans and dreams and hopes for her. I figured we would be one big happy family. But it wasn’t to be. In my opinion, Kim destroyed everything, and I wish to God I’d never let her through my front door. That girl destroyed Marshall. If she had been nice, it would have been different. MTV once said that he’d destroyed the two women who loved him most—that’s Kim and me. But as far as I’m concerned, Kim destroyed Marshall and me.

I would love for Marshall to fall in love with a really nice girl, someone who loves him for being just him. But, as he revealed in
Vanity Fair
, he no longer knows whom to trust. “Do they truly love me for me?” he asked. “The reason they’re approaching me is because I’m Eminem. And I will never be able to get over that insecurity.... Does this person care about me for me, or is it too late in the game now? Because I have money, I have fame, and I’m who I am.”

When the interviewer suggested he date a fellow celebrity, who would understand his problems, he said, “Tried that, that didn’t work. I’ve dated a few famous women and gone that route thinking that would work, and they ended up being crazier than I am.”

My poor son just can’t win. It’s the same with Nathan. He never knows if a girl wants him just to get close to Marshall. Making new friends, of either sex, is hard for both of them. Everyone wants a piece of the Eminem phenomenon. All Nathan wants is to be his own person.

Nathan and I recently had a long chat about our lives. “I love you and can’t think of a better mom than you,” he said. I said I’m not perfect, nor do I pretend to be, but one thing I’m not, nor have I ever been, is abusive to anyone.

Nathan and many close friends of mine remember things that I have chosen to forget, telling me I haven’t been the same since Todd died, that I’ve had so many struggles in my life, more than my fair share. I hope that in reading my story, people will have a better understanding of my life and the many trials and tribulations I’ve been through—but I’d like to think I’m a true survivor.

Nathan and I are close, and I hope that one day soon Marshall and I can forget our differences and put all this behind us, and once again enjoy the close bond we had in his early years. I have a recurring dream that I am sitting in a restaurant booth when Marshall walks in alone. I catch his eye, I walk over to him and reach out to hug him. The dream usually ends there, but it is so vivid that I think about it for hours afterwards. Marshall’s not a huggy person anymore. He was many years ago, but somewhere down the line, Kim took that too. Until he was fifteen and she came into our lives, he was a loving, sensitive person. Even if he just shook hands with someone, he leaned in for a hug. I think if we sat down together, be it in a restaurant or elsewhere, we might get that back. This may be a dream, but I know that dreams do come true.

So many years have passed since we really talked. I’m sure it’s been as hard on him as it has been on me. We’ve lost a lot of time, but I believe our love for each other still runs deep. Neither of us cut the umbilical cord.

I hope that if Marshall should read this book, he will have a better understanding, and realize that the last thing I would ever do is hurt him. I love him too much for that. I have tried to conceal my hurt and pain, but I want him to know, I do love him—always have, always will.

It’s said that time heals all wounds, reminding me of a plaque I bought my dear Nan one time. It went like this:

“The Clock of Life is wound but once and no man has the power, to tell just when the hands will stop at late or early hour. Now is the only time we own, so live, love and toil with a will, place no faith in tomorrow, for the hands may soon be still.... We were born crying; we must learn to laugh.” So true.

I want Marshall to know that I don’t blame him for the way things worked out. If he needs me, I’ll be there in a heartbeat.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

It’s been ten years since my son Marshall became Eminem the superstar and our once-close relationship collapsed. It breaks my heart, because we went through so much together before he became famous. But even though he has turned his back on me, recently he’s been reconnecting with his roots.

Back in the summer, he went to visit his Uncle Ronnie’s grave in Saint Joseph for the first time. I’d have given anything to be there with him when he paid his respects to my baby brother. Ronnie’s death at the age of just nineteen hit Marshall hard—they were the same age and had grown up together.

I knew he was in Saint Joe because staff at the cemetery phoned to tell me. He’s still the hometown hero, and everyone always wants to meet him. But since Proof died in April 2006, my son has become increasingly reclusive. He has cut himself off from the very people who love him and surrounded himself with the people I call the vultures, those hangers-on who do not have his best interests at heart.

He has the occasional girlfriend, but Kim still hovers in the background. She’s always going to be there because of their daughter, Hailie, but I wish she would stop tugging at his heartstrings and let him move forward.

Marshall is older and wiser now, and I think he has recently started trying to find himself. It’s something we all do as we age, and I believe Marshall’s two-year hiatus from the spotlight has been a time for reflection, for trying to work out what he truly wants from life.

He’s back in the studio, working on his first new album since 2004, and producing for numerous other artists. He’s also been working on his upcoming autobiography—and hopefully remembering the wonderful times we once had as a family.

People have accused me of writing this book for money, but that’s the last reason for doing it. I wanted to set the record straight to let both my sons know how much they are loved, despite our many struggles in life. And I want people to know the real me, not the person they think I am.

I have made many friends over the years and I apologize to anyone whose names I have left out of this book. But thank you to my friends and family members for believing in me.

Nothing can take the place or fill the void in your heart for children. I would like to say to all parents going through similar tribulations that nothing is impossible with God. Miracles never cease and I refuse to give up hope.

Marshall’s fans still shout abuse at me in the street. They call me “8 Mile” and believe I’m the evil, stoned-out-of-my-head alcoholic portrayed in the movie. That’s not me at all. The film was fiction, yet people pick on me because of it.

I’ve suffered abuse from the medical profession, who only ever want to know about my famous son, and from shop assistants and restaurant waitresses. I have to constantly change my telephone number because of death threats. Thieves have stolen my identity and hacked into my financial and hospital records. The taunting never stops.