I had the pleasure of attending the inaugural production of Spinning Tree Theatre a couple of Fridays ago. The theatre company is the dream child of one of my high school friends and his partner. I wanted to support them, so I purchased tickets to their production of William Finn's Make Me a Song. I expected a relaxing and fun evening of song and talent, and I wasn't disappointed. What I didn't expect to find was a little comfort for one of the permanent nicks that life inflicted upon my heart many years ago.
I've written before about how, on some days, I really miss my mom. She passed away when I was five years old, so it's a little strange that I should find myself thinking about her so much now that I'm older. Still, 35 years after her death, I hold tightly to the belief that she can see and hear me, and I rage at the frustration I feel because I can't see or hear her.
But, just as life can inflict pain, it can also soothe it serendipitously.
I've written before about how, on some days, I really miss my mom. She passed away when I was five years old, so it's a little strange that I should find myself thinking about her so much now that I'm older. Still, 35 years after her death, I hold tightly to the belief that she can see and hear me, and I rage at the frustration I feel because I can't see or hear her.
But, just as life can inflict pain, it can also soothe it serendipitously.
And that's what happened as I sat in the Off Center Theatre a couple of Fridays ago. When I heard the song, Anytime (I Am There), it was as if my mom was finally responding to the thousands of words I've silently spoken to her over the years. Peace and comfort filled my soul.
