His Bright Light

  “This is the story of an extraordinary boy with a brilliant mind,

  a heart of gold, and a tortured soul. It is the story of an illness,

  a fight to live, and a race against death.”

  HIS BRIGHT LIGHT

  The Story of Nick Traina

  From the day he was born, Nick Traina was his mother’s joy. By nineteen, he was dead. This is Danielle Steel’s powerful personal story of the son she lost and the lessons she learned during his courageous battle against darkness. Sharing tender, painful memories and Nick’s remarkable journals, Steel brings us a haunting duet between a singular young man and the mother who loved him—and a harrowing portrait of a masked killer called manic depression, which afflicts between two and three million Americans.

  At once a loving legacy and an unsparing depiction of a devastating illness, Danielle Steel’s tribute to her lost son is a gift of life, hope, healing, and understanding to us all.

  Honored by the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill for

  “an outstanding literary contribution to a better

  understanding of mental illness”

  “The force of this story and the bittersweet lessons it imparts are rendered all the more powerful by the fact that it is true … Told with the same passionate intensity and shrewd, worldly wise insight that has marked [Steel’s] fiction, His Bright Light is bound to speak to millions … The brave truths the book tells about an illness that millions know but few dare to discuss have already garnered responses in the form of thousands of letters and e-mail messages from patients and family members … Ultimately, it is a message of hope that Steel intends to impart, but along the way she tells a searing story of heartbreak.”

  —Psychiatric News

  A MAIN SELECTION OF THE LITERARY GUILD

  AND THE DOUBLEDAY BOOK CLUB

  ACCLAIM FOR DANIELLE STEEL’S

  HIS BRIGHT LIGHT

  “[A] MOVING, UNPRECEDENTED

  PERSONAL STORY of the son she lost to

  manic depression and the lessons she learned during his

  courageous lifelong battle against the disease.”

  —Valley News (Browns Valley, Minn.)

  “POWERFUL … Her labor of love and sorrow

  will increase the reader’s understanding and

  compassion for those who suffer from mental illness.

  For that reason, the book is most assuredly

  worth reading.”

  —Goldthwaite Eagle (Tex.)

  “A haunting story of a young man and

  the mother who loved him.”

  —Gazette (Wheaton, Minn.)

  “A good read.”

  —Observer (Toms River, N.J.)

  “Will not disappoint Steel’s fans.”

  —The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

  “HAUNTING.”

  —Star Courier (Piano, Tex.)

  “Danielle Steel is a bestseller magnet … Readers who follow Steel are in for [the] unexpected … with His Bright Light, a memoir about her son Nick.”

  —USA Today

  “Gripping … [a] poignant memoir of a son lost.”

  —San Antonio Express-News

  “If you think you know someone who suffers from depression, especially a young person, then buy him or her a copy of His Bright Light by Danielle Steel and urge them to read it.”

  —MGW Newspaper (Sacramento, Cal.)

  “[A] searing portrayal of the loss of her 19-year-old son … Ms. Steel’s heartfelt homage to her son may very well help others save a life.”

  —The Dallas Morning News

  “More haunting than any of Steel’s fiction, this book is equally poignant and frightening, a look at how intelligent people can trap themselves into seeing only life’s bleaker perspectives.”

  —The Vancouver Sun

  “Tender and engrossing.”

  —Enterprise (Clyde, Ohio)

  Also by Danielle Steel

  SAFE HARBOUR JEWELS

  JOHNNY ANGEL NO GREATER LOVE

  DATING GAME HEARTBEAT

  ANSWERED PRAYERS MESSAGE FROM NAM

  SUNSET IN ST. TROPEZ DADDY

  THE COTTAGE STAR

  THE KISS ZOYA

  LEAP OF FAITH KALEIDOSCOPE

  LONE EAGLE FINE THINGS

  JOURNEY WANDERLUST

  THE HOUSE ON SECRETS

  HOPE STREET FAMILY ALBUM

  THE WEDDING FULL CIRCLE

  IRRESISTIBLE FORCES CHANGES

  GRANNY DAN THURSTON HOUSE

  BITTERSWEET CROSSINGS

  MIRROR IMAGE ONCE IN A LIFETIME

  THE KLONE AND I A PERFECT STRANGER

  THE LONG ROAD HOME REMEMBRANCE

  THE GHOST PALOMINO

  SPECIAL DELIVERY LOVE: POEMS

  THE RANCH THE RING

  SILENT HONOR LOVING

  MALICE TO LOVE AGAIN

  FIVE DAYS IN PARIS SUMMER’S END

  LIGHTNING SEASON OF PASSION

  WINGS THE PROMISE

  THE GIFT NOW AND FOREVER

  ACCIDENT PASSION’S PROMISE

  VANISHED GOING HOME

  MIXED BLESSINGS

  (photo credit 1.1)

  To Nick, first and foremost, who had been asking me for a while to dedicate another book to him. This wasn’t the one I had in mind. But this one’s for you, Nick. For the lessons you taught me, the gifts that you gave me, the heart that you gave me, and all the love that we shared. Wider than the ocean, bigger than the sky. Fly well, my darling boy, until we meet again. With all my love, Mom.

  To Julie, who gave him a life he never would have had otherwise. She gave him joy, and freedom, and respect, and safety, and wisdom, and most of all, love. She gave him the adulthood he wanted and deserved. To her husband, Bill, for being his friend. And to Serena and Chris, for opening their hearts and lives to Nick.

  To Paul and Cody, for giving so tirelessly, from their hearts … and going to all those concerts!!!

  To Dr. Seifried, for keeping him going for so long, and caring about him so much.

  To Max Leavitt, Sammy (the Mick) Ewing, and Thea Anderson for giving their hearts forever, and beyond.

  To Chuck (Erin Mason), for being there when it really counted.

  To Jo Schuman Silver, who was his special friend, whom he adored, and who adored him.

  To Camilla and Lucy, for years and years and years of loving.

  To Mort Janklow, for believing in this book, me, and Nicky.

  To Carole Baron, for asking me to write it.

  To John, for our lost dreams, and all you did for Nick. The doctors, the solutions, the medicines, and the loving father you were to him.

  To Tom, for being there for me, and because Nick loved you. And for encouraging me to write this book, and getting me through it.

  To Bill, for giving me Nicky, and being there for me when we lost him, and being my friend.

  To all the people who cared so much about him, rejoiced for him, laughed with him, cried for him. To all those who worked so hard to make his life as good as it could be, secretaries and nurses and doctors, people in the music world, and all our friends, all the people who were there for him, and made a difference.

  And to my beloved children, Beatrix, Trevor, Todd, Samantha, Victoria, Vanessa, Maxx and Zara, for being the best brothers and sisters in the world, and the most precious gifts in my life, just as Nick was, and is, and always will be. For the love and strength and laughter that we share, that you gave Nick, and that he gave us. May you be forever blessed, and may you never again know a sorrow and loss like this one.

  With all my love,

  d.s.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Other Books By This Author

  Title Page

 
; Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - The Journey Begins

  Chapter 2 - “I’m Incredible!”

  Chapter 3 - Casanova

  Chapter 4 - Siblings and Other Changes

  Chapter 5 - Sixth Grade: The demons begin to let us see them

  Chapter 6 - Seventh Grade: Slowly downwards

  Chapter 7 - Eighth Grade: The beginning of disaster

  Chapter 8 - He crashes

  Chapter 9 - Demons

  Chapter 10 - Programs, evaluations, and finally medication. A small hope dawns at last

  Chapter 11 - Up and down, and up and down Better and worse, and better. Just like a seesaw. and finally, a diagnosis

  Chapter 12 - A Long, hard summer

  Chapter 13 - A new home for nicky

  Chapter 14 - A miracle at last

  Chapter 15 - Music, MUSIC, MUSIC!

  Chapter 16 - Two warning shots rang out in the silence

  Chapter 17 - Third Warning

  Chapter 18 - Disastrous Summer

  Chapter 19 - Scrambled eggs at midnight

  Chapter 20 - A sea of yellow roses

  Afterword

  Photo Credits

  Copyright

  It is not growing like a tree

  In bulk, doth make men better be;

  Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,

  To fall a log at last, dry, bald and sere:

  A lily of the day,

  Is fairer far in May,

  Although it fall and die that night;

  It was the plant and flower of light.

  Ben Jonson

  “No matter how much I put in the bank

  every day, I wake up broke every morning.”

  Nick Traina

  August 1997

  Mom …

  I have known a million people

  But never one like you

  Many of my friends are special

  But I still don’t have a clue

  How you got to be so wonderful

  The world’s most perfect mom

  You’ve always loved and helped me

  Even when I was wrong

  I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you

  I’m sorry I’ve made you cry

  I’ll do my best to make you proud

  I promise I will try

  Everyone sees hardship

  And everyone feels pain

  And if anyone knows it’s you and me

  That sun will shine through rain

  You’ve given me so much

  That words are not enough

  To say how much I love you

  I’m trying and it’s tough

  Without you I’d be nowhere

  You believed in me no matter what

  My arms are always open

  I promise you they’ll never shut

  I have more respect for you

  Than any woman alive

  And my shoulder is always here

  If you ever need to cry

  Everything will turn out fine

  Because I will always love you

  Until the day I die

  Nick Traina

  August 1996

  Prologue

  This will not be an easy book to write, but there is much to say, in my own words, and my son’s. And as hard as it may be to write, it’s worth doing, if it helps someone.

  It is hard to encapsulate a being, a very special being, a soul, a smile, a boy, a huge talent, an enormous heart, a child, a man, in however many pages. Yet I must try, for him, for myself, for you. And I hope that as I do, you will come to understand who he was, and what he meant to all those who knew him.

  This is the story of an extraordinary boy, with a brilliant mind, a heart of gold, and a tortured soul. It is the story of an illness, a fight to live, and a race against death. It is early days for me yet, as I write this. He has been gone a short time. My heart still aches. The days seem endless. I still cry at the sound of his name. I wander into his room and can still smell his familiar smell. His words still echo in my ears. He was alive only days, weeks ago … so little time, and yet he is gone. It is still impossible to absorb or understand. Harder still to accept. I look at his photographs, and cannot imagine that all that life and love and energy has vanished. That funny, handsome face, that brilliant smile, the heart I knew better than my own, the best friend he became to me, can they truly be gone? Do they live only in memory? Even now, it remains beyond my comprehension, and is sometimes beyond bearing. How did it all happen? How did we lose him? How could we have tried so hard, and cared so much, and loved him so enormously, and still have lost him? If love alone could have kept him alive, he would have lived to be three hundred years old. But sometimes, even loving with all your heart and soul and all your mind and will just doesn’t do it. Sadly, it didn’t do it for Nick.

  If I had three wishes, one would be that he had never suffered from mental illness, the other would be of course that he were alive today, but the third would be that someone had warned me, at some point, that his illness—manic depression—could kill him. Perhaps they did. Perhaps they told me in some subtle way. Maybe the inference was there, and I didn’t want to hear it. But I listened carefully to everything that was said to me over the years, I examined every nuance, and to the best of my knowledge and abilities, heeded every warning. My recollection is that no one told me. Certainly not clearly. And it was a piece of information that I desperately needed. I’m not sure we would have done things any differently, but at least I would have known, been warned, of what the worst case could be.

  His illness killed him as surely as if it had been a cancer. I wish I had known that, that I had been warned how great the risk was. Perhaps then I would have been better prepared for what came later. I’m not sure that in the minds of the public it is clear that bipolar disease, manic depression as it’s more commonly called, is potentially fatal. Not always certainly, but in far too many cases. Suicide and accidents appear to be the greatest cause of death for manic-depressives. Neither are uncommon. If I had been told that he had cancer of a major organ, I would have known with certainty how great the risk was. I might have understood how short his life could be, how tragic the implication. I’m sure I would have fought just as hard, just as long, just as ingeniously, but I would have been better prepared for what came later. The defeat might not have been quite as startling or as stunning, though it would surely have been just as devastating.

  The purpose of this book is to pay tribute to him, and to what he accomplished in his short life. Nick was an extraordinary human being, with joy and wisdom, and remarkably profound and astute perceptions about himself and others. He faced life with courage and panache and passion and humor. He did everything “more” and better and harder. He loved harder and more, he laughed a lot, and made us laugh, and cry, and try so hard to save him. No one who met him was left unimpressed or unaffected. You couldn’t meet him and not give a damn. He made you care and feel and want to be as big as he was. He was very big. The biggest.

  I have written this book to honor and remember him. But there is yet another purpose in writing this book. I want to share the story, and the pain, the courage, the love, and what I learned in living through it. I want Nick’s life to be not only a tender memory for us, but a gift to others. There is much to learn here, not only about one life, but about a disease that afflicts between two and three million Americans, one third of whom, it is believed, die from it, possibly as many as two thirds. That is a terrifying statistic. The statistics are somewhat “soft” on the issue of fatalities, because often death is attributed to other things, for instance “accidental overdose” rather than suicide, which is determined by the actual amount of fatal substances ingested, rather than by clear motive.

  It is debatable as to whether or not those who have died could have been saved, or if those who will die can be. But what of those who will live, and have lived, and are still living? How do we help them? What can we do? Sadly, no on
e, and certainly not I, has the magic answers to solve the problem. There are different options, different solutions, a variety of ways of coping. But first, you have to see the problem. You have to understand what you’re dealing with, to accept that what you’re dealing with is the equivalent of not just a bellyache, but liver cancer. You have to know that what you’re facing is serious, important, dangerous, and potentially fatal.

  Somewhere out there, in apartments, and homes, and hospitals, in ordinary jobs and lives, and not just psychiatric wards, are people coping with a terrible struggle within them. And alongside them are the people who know and love them. I would like to reach out here, and to offer hope and the realities we lived with. I want to make a difference. My hope is that someone will be able to use what we learned, and save a life with it. Maybe you can make a difference, even if I couldn’t. If it is true that one third of manic-depressives die of this disease, and its related burdens, then two thirds will live. Two thirds can be helped, and can live a useful existence. And if possible, I would like Nick’s story, and Nick’s life, to help them, to serve them, perhaps to learn from our mistakes, and our victories.

  The greatest lessons I learned were of courage, and love, energy, ingenuity, and persistence. We never gave up, never turned away, never turned on him, never let him go, until he let us go, because he couldn’t fight the fight any longer. We not only gave him CPR when he attempted suicide, but we tried to keep his soul alive in every way we could, so that he could keep fighting the fight along with us. And the real victory for him, and for us, was that we gave him a quality of life he might otherwise never have had. He was able to pursue a career he loved, in music. He saw victories that few people do, at twice his age, or who live a great deal longer. He knew the joy and excitement of success, and also knew better than most the price he paid for it. He had friends, a life, a family, a career, he had fun and happiness and sorrow. He moved through the last few years of his life with surprising grace, despite the handicaps he was born with. And we were incredibly proud of him, as a man, a musician, and a human being. He was a talented, brilliant young man with a disease. But the disease did not stop him from being who he was, or us from loving him as he was. In retrospect, I think it was one of the best gifts we gave him. Acceptance of who he was, and unconditional love. In our eyes at least, his illness was only one facet of him, not the whole of him.