I make my way through my day--errands to run, a semi-typical set of drop-offs and pickups and text exchanges and follow ups. And then at seven o'clock, I settle in to a theater seat for a musical. And before I know it, my child, and close to thirty others, have entertained me for two and a half hours.
I have seen my children in shows before. Obviously, I am proud of their
accomplishments and supportive of their endeavors. I manage the
calendar, and I schlep when needed. But somehow, this performance is a
little different. Perhaps it is that with all the directions I am going
myself these days, I have barely heard any practice or seen any of the
rehearsal process. Maybe it is that it is a bigger part, or a bigger
stretch. Or maybe, just maybe, I am watching with eyes that have
changed since the last "opening night." Whatever the reason, this
"opening night" leaves me overwhelmed--at all that has gone into what I
see on stage, on how many people's contributions have made it happen, and
at, of course, my own child's part in it all.
The production (Shrek The Musical) runs all weekend, and I will see it
several more times. I imagine the remaining performances will all be
terrific. But for now, I savor the feeling of that very first
performance--another opening of another show.