Stacey and I left the show reception a little after 11pm on a Sunday night. I was barefoot on the downtown streets - feet throbbing and pink suede stilettos swinging from two fingers. There were no cars or crowds (it is Spokane on a Sunday night after all) and I felt exhausted in the most exhilarating encompassing way; my body and mind were spent and my head was surrounded by a tingling sensation - a space left by the thing we had worked so hard to create which had, that night, left us and now belonged to the world.
Here I sit, three days later, with tears in my eyes. It all went so fast. I didn't get to look each cast member in the eye and tell them exactly how amazing I thought they were or how they and their stories will always be a part of me or how grateful I am to them for trusting me and Stacey, and trusting themselves, and leaving it all on the stage. Because that is truly what happened that night.
Every single member of our cast stepped out onto that stage on Sunday with their A game. They were on, they were dedicated and devoted and they opened their mouths and let their stories take flight in the most eloquent, heartfelt, elegant, entertaining ways I could never have imagined. It was awesome.
If there wasn't time to say everything I wanted to the cast there was also not time to stop for a moment, take Stacey's hand, and tell her how much I love and admire her and how much it means that she trusted me to be by her side through the whole production. There was no was there time to thank Kristina for the hours and hours she devoted to taking pictures, or the even more endless hours she (and other loved ones including AS and MH) has spent supporting us, listening to us gripe, figure, hash out the production. Last but certainly not least, there was no time to thank each person in the audience for laughing at my jokes, for listening without judgement, for shedding tears and nodding heads and clapping hands.
So I am belated in my thanks, and that contributes to the sadness. And the more I sit with this feeling and with the tears that well in my eyes the more I come to realize that I am just flat out sad that it is over. Putting Listen To Your Mother Spokane together is intense and exhilarating and a shit load of fun. Being funny on stage was a huge rush. Helping other cast members to shine that night was fulfilling. The experience as a whole provided a a rush like no other. And now it's over. At least until LTYM 2013 gets going...
So for now I leave you with pictures from LTYM Spokane 2012 and an invitation to WRITE something about mothering. Not necessarily something gushy and lovey (although it can be that), but something true, something that is yours, and something that maybe, just maybe, you might read for next year's show.