Double Play

Yesterday was a first for me. Not only was I performing my one-man show at MetroHealth, but The Vampyres opened at CPT. Two plays in one day. Neat.

It was a good performance. I still love to tell the story. I messed up a surprising number of words, and I can't account for that. It was a very supportive crowd. I think I was just getting ahead of myself. One reassuring constant is my stage manager Kelly, who knows the show very well and can cope with almost anything. Today's performance and yesterday's were flawless on her end.

It didn't hurt that since May, MetroHealth's tech guy, Emeri, has been on the case. Last time there was no front lighting, now there was, and how. And they rewired the PowerPoint and sound so Kelly could run it facing the stage, instead of sitting on it. Yay, Emeri!

As the final moments came, I wondered how I was doing (just another sign I was rusty, I shouldn't have been thinking about that then.) The proof came in the Q&A we held with the attendees. Nurses asking "how can we not be Nurse Evil?" and doctors asking "what can we do for the other family members of bereaved parents?" They wanted to know. They were engaged in the subject. Coping with parents with a loss was important to them.

Catherine and Steve were there. It was so nice to meet them in person, finally. I was reminded, when I introduced them to Kristen F. (who, along with her husband, Dr. Phil, was instrumental in getting me this performance) what a short time it has been for them since they lost Alex.

In the play, I re-enact a part of our memorial service for Calvin. It took place in late May, 2001. Alex was born im May, 2005. At the service, held two months after Calvin was born, I mention "how long" it had been since Calvin's death. Two months. So long. It's true.

Today was very different. The performance at Akron City Hospital was much more technically correct. But no one laughed, at least not out loud, not once. I can usually tell what kind of audience reaction I am to expect by the time I say, "I guess the only way I can express my feelings is through laundry." Nothing. It was like Minnesota.

I don't believe there was a single man in the room, it was a conference of nurses, and by the time I describe my wife's former boss with the "c" word I thought I was skating on thin ice. I couldn't blame them, though. The air conditioning had gone (I can't believe I did the show in my sweater, anyway) and they had been there all day.

We did have a nice, brief talkback at the end, and that went a long way to show I was just missing something. A woman sitting near the front simply thanked me for a wonderful show. She was quiet, and her eyes were red. Maybe I should remember some people can't find this amusing at all. And that that is their right.

My contact, Jennifer D. was extremely wonderful throughout, and took very good care of Kelly and I. And I have to admit, again, I was truly enjoying the experience of living it all again. Living it is remembering, never forgetting. I surprised myself during the "Memorial Service." It has been so long since he died. So long. It will never end.

I miss you, boy.

UPDATE: Just read Catherine's "review" of the show (I call it a review, it's so much more than that.) And I don't know what to say. Toni was reading over my shoulder and said, "that's why you do that." And so it is. Thanks again, Catherine. I am so glad you two came.