Dear Jack,
You have something that your dad and I don't have- a love story about your parents to tell your own children someday. I wrote this last year when I was pregnant with you. It's the story of how I became your dad's wife and eventually your mother. It's a beautiful love story set in one of the most exciting summers of my life. I hope that someday you'll read it and someday even farther into the future you can share it with your children as a lovely part of their family history.
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The hall was decorated like a
circus. My mother was receiving an award
that night among cardboard cutouts of dancing bears balancing on colorful balls
and triumphant paper elephants, trunks held high. The sound of shuffling cards caught my
attention. Two tarot card readers were
set up at small tables dispensing advice and sage wisdom. I sat down in front of one of them. Her dark red hair was pulled loosely into a
bun. Purple paisley glasses clung to the
tip of her nose. She skillfully began
flipping cards onto the table, alternating her gaze between me and the
cards.
“You’re in a relationship right now aren’t you?”
“Yes I am.”
“He’s not the one. He has a hard time understanding how to love
you. Soon you will find someone who
won’t try to tame you. If you allow
yourself some room to grow you will experience an abundance of blessings.”
As I stared at the images of kings and empresses I let her words
hang in the air for a moment before fully absorbing them. Did I feel tamed?
I had spent the past three years of my life in a huge oversized
sweater of safety and solitude. After
studying theatre in college I convinced myself that I could always perform in
plays for fun, and that maybe it was time for a real job and a real life; as if
at 25 I had any clue of what a “real” existence looked like to me. The problem was, I had not acted in
years. I had cut off that part of my
life like a budding tree limb hoping that someday it would just grow back on
its own. If you allow yourself some room to grow you will experience an
abundance of blessings. Maybe it was
time to reclaim some part of myself that I had unconsciously shut off to see
what blessings would come my way.
The week after the party I did something that would ultimately
change the entire course of my life.
I sent an email.
I wrote a letter to the volunteer coordinator of a local theatre
asking to be put on a mailing list for upcoming auditions. Two weeks later I received a reply detailing
opportunities for involvement. At the
very bottom of the email was an audition notice for an outdoor summer
production of Shakespeare’s “The Taming of the Shrew”. Anyone who walked past my tiny cubicle that
day would wonder why I was grinning like a Cheshire cat at my computer
screen. Since my first introduction to
Shakespeare, I had always been drawn to the role of Kate the Shrew. She is brazen and pulls no punches. Most notable of all, she is able to hold her
own against an equally feisty man named Petruchio. I spent the next few weeks pouring over
monologues to prepare for my audition. I
even started a kickboxing class to make sure I was in tip top shape. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that
huge sweater that had become my life was slowly starting to unravel into a
little pile of yarn at my feet.
The day of auditions came. I clutched my audition monologue and resume
in my shaking hand as I made my way up the sidewalk to the park where auditions
were held. “Breathe, just breathe,” I
whispered. Auditioning felt like
flying. All of the exhilarating feelings
I had ever felt onstage came rushing back to me. I felt amazing when it was all over. I took a stroll to the amphitheatre where the
play would be performed and just sat there listening to the leaves rustle in
the wind. I smiled the entire way home.
Waiting for a cast list to be posted
is quite possibly the worst sort of waiting game. But this time felt different, worse than
other auditions. Somehow I knew the
stakes were higher. Five days later,
when the call finally came that I was to play Kate, the swarm of butterflies
that had set up camp in my stomach fluttered away. I never thought I’d get the chance to play
Kate.
On the first night of rehearsals I
saw my leading man stroll up the sidewalk.
He studied theatre in the same program I had, but we only met briefly before
life took us in different directions. I
stood on the deck outside of the rehearsal space waiting to greet him. He climbed the steps and smiled. There are landmark moments in life when you
know nothing will ever be the same. This
was one of them. In the same way that
those butterflies flew away, the shadows of my old life vanished like
vapors. There was the life that was and
the life that would be; everything had changed.
I no longer believe in the cliché of love at first sight. I now understand and delight in the very
realness of it. Our first rehearsal was
magical. The entire cast connected and
the chemistry among the actors was palpable.
As he walked me to my car at the end of rehearsal I knew a very
uncomfortable conversation was going to have to take place immediately.
I will always believe that if I
hadn’t been cast in that play during that particular summer, some other event
sponsored by the universe would have revealed to me that our relationship had
come to an end. Words came tumbling out,
words aimed at providing comfort but that fell flat and lifeless the moment
they escaped my lips: “You are a
wonderful person…I appreciate everything you’ve done for me…We’ve grown apart.” And finally, the dreaded, loathed, despised,
“can we still be friends?” As I lay in bed that night replaying the
conversation in my head I felt a sort of peace come over me. And although I would never tell him that my
first notice from the universe that something was wrong came from a psychic at
a party, her words echoed in my head, He’s
not the one. He has a hard time
understanding how to love you. I
shouldn’t have waited for a cosmic Post-it Note. I shouldn’t have waited for a man to come
walking up a staircase smiling at me before I realized this, but when I reflect
back on this time in my life I understand that it all had to happen in just
this way. The last strand of the sweater
had unraveled itself from its cocoon-like hold on me- just in time for summer.
June melted slowly into July and the
summer progressed in a whirlwind of rehearsals and evenings spent bonding with
the cast, laughing and connecting in ways that I had not connected with people
in so long. And “he” was always there
talking about our scenes, commenting on how strong he thought they were, how
dedicated we both were to making the other person shine onstage. I smiled and nodded and silently wondered if
he had any idea how much I loved him. I
decided to relish the feeling and let him find it in his own time. I kept this for me like a shiny pearl buried
beneath the hard exterior of an oyster.
Having shed my sweater I felt alternating feelings of liberation and
nakedness, joy and fear.
The show opened and closed to
laughter, applause, and rave reviews from friends and family. The occasional inquiry into the identity of
my handsome leading man was met with a vague reply: “friend.” In all honesty, he was my friend, my best
friend; we had grown so close that summer that it became hard to remember a
time when I was not aware of him. As we
shed the skin of our theatrical personas and came to know each other offstage
it became clear that we had each found our match. Two years later our wedding invitations
carried a quote from that most beloved play, “Be it sun or moon or what you
please, henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.”
I think back on that summer with fondness and awe. I think back to the party where it all began
and the words of wisdom from that wonderful mystery woman who helped me find
the path that was before me, Soon you
will find someone who won’t try to tame you.
She used the word “tame”. Maybe
that is the closest I’ll ever come to having God wink at me. In our version of “The Taming of the Shrew”,
Kate and Petruchio exited the final scene as equals. In our marriage we continue the pursuit of
making the other shine. As my hand
drifts down to my stomach where a new part of us is starting to blossom I take
comfort in the final words I received that night, so long ago now, If you allow yourself some room to grow you
will experience an abundance of blessings.
I never thought I’d experience those blessings so fully and richly.
I can read this story again and again and experience the same gratitude, wonder and delight. When something's meant to be - it will be. I left my marriage to your Dad with the deepest hope that you would know this kind of joy with a partner someday. Marriage had to be re-defined in order for each of you to experience it in the way God intended when he created you for each other. You and Trevor redefine it every day. Some very sad stories had very blissful endings...and beginnings. xo
ReplyDelete...and grow you did! Literally, with a beautiful full pregnant belly.
ReplyDeleteLoved this story, Nancy. Bravo.