So, we have come to the end of “Widows Anonymous.” And what a wild ride it was. But as I woke up this morning, with nothing on my to-do list for the show, I wondered, how do I honor, celebrate, grieve, this end? It has been my life for months.
No doubt, there is a significant part of me that is relieved. I don’t have to wake up early in the morning to schedule a rehearsal, post a blog, or email everyone I know to nudge them, one more time, to get their tickets.
I’m also looking forward to my ‘normal’ life again. My garden is looking sad, I haven’t cooked a meal in ages, and I’m not sure what is growing in the back of my refrigerator. Plus, I am sorely missing friends and family, and can’t wait to sit, with a cup of tea in hand, and catch up on everything that’s been going on while I was otherwise occupied.
But I also ache at the thought it is over: the devotion, the adrenalin, the joy, the pleasure, the catharsis, that was performing this piece. There is no denying it was brutally painful at times to create this material. But in the pain, the excavating, the discovery, there was also healing. And there were also moments of such profound joy, as an insight was made, a character came to life, as I stepped onto the stage opening night.
And I will miss my Ladies, who graced me with their stories, their lessons, their love. It is a great mystery, how they showed up on the page, fully formed. From the beginning I could hear their voices, imagine how they looked, they guided me in my choices. It is like saying goodbye to friends. With their help, I took another step in my own healing.
And as much as I needed my solitude for the deep dives, I could never have done it alone. I am forever grateful for those who collaborated and supported this vision: Cara Pifko, Lesley Kernochan, Debra Roventini, Kenny Johnston. Plus, to all of those along the way who cheered me on, saw me with believing eyes, sprinkled fairy dust, and caught me when I tumbled, I thank you.
So, to the water’s edge I went this morning. To let this experience fully sink in. To honor and treasure every step, to fully feel my gratitude for it all. And to say my goodbyes.
I suspect it won’t be too long before I start wondering what’s next. But until then, I’m looking forward to ice tea on the porch, naps on the couch, and a juicy book to lose myself in.