Last night a good friend had her first solo show. Usually a scary thing that requires a bit of bravery all by itself, this show was doubly hard as it was days after her father had passed away suddenly a week or so after Thanksgiving. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have done it. The only other option would have been to cancel and I am sure her Father would not have wanted her to do that. There really was no choice. She had to go on.
Too make the night even harder, there they were…her entire family in the front row. At times, they were comforting each other. At times, they were so over come, they had to leave the room all together. The performance space is intimate and fairly bright, so not only could the audience witness this play within a play, but so could the performer. How did she not break down? Oh a few times, we heard the voice crack, but she kept it together. With sheer will and determination, God, that was one tough broad!
I couldn’t have done it, I’ll say it again. I joked afterwards, and thought about my family in the front row. “If I heard even a sniffle out of my Mom, I would have stopped the show and made her move into the dark, where I couldn’t see or hear her for the rest of the performance.” But, in reality, I would want her that close. To be that naked and not have that unconditional love staring up at you, sharing in your pain…I can’t imagine the loneliness that you would have felt. And yet, to see the mixture of proud, strength, love, grief, anger…all of those things on my Mother’s face. I would have had problems not looking at her the entire time. Wanting to make sure she was ok. That it was not too much for her. Everyone else in the room would have faded away. But, that didn’t happen.
My friend reached new places in her music. Showing us heart in more of her tunes that before. She lived in the lyrics, found depth in the words and wanted us to feel what she was feeling. When it was time for an up-tempo, you felt the lightness come into her bones and her face. When it was time for a ballad, you were taken to her pain and lived there with her for 3 minutes.
In the last few weeks, as I have been getting my own spring show off the ground, I’ve thought a lot about the importance of what I do and who I do it for. And yeah, I bring a little joy and lightness to people…especially now with everything being so scary in the world. But, maybe I do this a lot for myself, too. Look at all of the wonderful things that my friend received last night. She was bathed in love, from family and friends. She got to express her feelings in song, sharing her talents with a room full of supportive fans. She gave her gift to her family and to the memory of her father’s love. And she impressed me with her true bravery, humility and humanity, at a time of huge grief. I applaud her.
