Seriously. There was a benefit dinner and show last night for GAAR (the Greensboro Arts Alliance & Registry) and it was utterly fabulous. We had David and CJ, Charlie and an astonishingly talented young woman from the area play Shakespeare’s lovers, and it was funny, riveting, romantic. I’d forgotten just how much I loved Shakespeare. I’d also forgotten that back in my youth I memorized both “To Be Or Not To Be” and the entire balcony scene from “Romeo and Juliet.” Ah, youth.
There was one troublesome thing about it, though.
Charlie is 24 years old, the son of the director of GAAR, and he’s darling. He was the assistant stage manager in TSOM, as well as the priest and a a Nazi, he was on Broadway by the time he was seven, and he was the one who chose the selections and acted in half of them. He was brilliant. He went from Romeo to Richard the Third to Lysander, all of them funny and sly and charming (yes, even Shakespeare’s evil Richard had a certain reptilian charm).(And guess who I found the hottest? How well do you know me?)
Anyway, Charlie’s going to be a doctor. He wants a normal life, a wife and children, he’ll probably do family practice or pediatrics (not going for mega-bucks). He’s level-headed and sweet and hard-working.
But his gift! (She wails). Not for me to judge — I’m sure he’ll find his balance in the long-run. Having grown up in the business, he has a more jaundiced view of what life in the theater involves. He’s wise for his age (well, wise for any age), and he’ll make the right choices for him. It’s just that he was sooo good, and the thought of him throwing that away …
He’s not throwing it away. He’ll be saving lives. Except, of course, I believe that art has the ability to save lives. Gotta hope and believe it’ll work out as it should.
And then, for the third week in a row we have a funeral. Three weeks ago we buried my mother. Last week it was Uncle Walter. Today it’s Francy, a sweet, sweet woman who was a dear friend of both Richie’s Aunt Alice and my Aunt Emilie. She had a long, valiant fight with cancer, and was lucky enough to be able to make it up here to spend her last weeks, and after a lot of pain she went quickly and peacefully.
But I’m just not sure I can face another funeral. At least this one is in the church, not at the graveside. But in a way that might be even worse — since I didn’t have a church service it might just let the floodgates loose.
It’s about 70 degrees with a breeze and a clear blue sky. I want to be outdoors. So that’s what I’ll do.
Self-care. My god, isn’t that a major part of Reinventing one’s Fabulousness? And how often do I do it? Not very.
Another sign that this is really working.