Sunday afternoon, amidst a sea of entertained patrons, sat one awe-inspired Granny.
Me.
The young man in the center of the photo above is my 18 year old grandson. He’s been everything a grandson could be from the very start. Adorably cute. Thoughtful. Loving. Sincere. Hilarious. Spiritual. Cherished. Sensitive. Smart. Charming. The list goes on and on with this young man now towering well over me at 6’many more”. Of course, all my family is taller than me. I’m vertically challenged, for sure.
This wonderful grandson works full time, goes to college, and acts. And boy can he act! It’s his passion, along with singing and dancing.
Memories take me back to the theater of long ago, when the decade was much younger and I was still a wife. I’d seen an announcement requesting actors to apply at the local theater. This place was far from professional, but focused on family fun. With a few visits, VST and I were thespians. The difference between the two of us is that VST immediately got cast in not one but two leading parts. Just like that, our off hours were spent learning scripts in a broken down old dance hall. For a magical time in our lives, VST became the voice of the Golden Chain Theater.
One special evening, K brought two very little grandsons to the theater to watch their grandfather portray a really rotten guy who owned a very large sword with which he gracefully danced across the stage while fighting with another. Buck Badam aka VST. Who new the quiet and reserved Dr. VST could turn into such an outrageous villain? The boys never looked at their Papa quite the same after that.
Years later, an older version of that grandson stood singing “Amazing Grace” through heartfelt tears at his Papa’s memorial. So young. So brave. So tender. So together. His voice rang out to the heavens on that, the saddest of days. Barely having the ability to speak that day, I was in awe of the strength he possessed even at that young age.
Well, move over, because the real Gaston has come to life. On Sunday afternoon last, Gaston absolutely stole the show. Singing solos with his booming voice. Charming the ladies on the set and in the audience, he was syrupy and conniving one minute and then vile and intense the next. When he was on stage, he took over. He was Gaston as I was carried back in time on a cloud of memories. It was as if I was watching past and present moments in one. “Buck Badam Meets Belle”.
In this day and age, it was refreshing to see adults expressing themselves through song and dance while entertaining the audience. The sets and costumes were of the best quality. But then, this theater is the gem of the Central Valley having produced the likes of Audra McDonald and other’s that’ve made their way right to the top of Broadway. Their productions span the last 50 years, always of the best quality.
“Beauty and the Beast” is a fairytale. After the disastrous play in which the Mysterious Marine so graciously accompanied me, I was worried. Would MM never attend another production with me? Were plays off the list forever? A true man’s man and Marine, would he fall asleep during this child’s tale and wake up when it was over? I shouldn’t have worried a bit. MM was as taken as I was. We were transported into the fairy tale until the end. When Gaston changes to another character in a future production, we’ll return, front and center.
At the end, with everyone clapping politely, I had to stand and shout out a “Way to Go, Jeremy!” Feeling like he had given everything in his Gaston playbook for his Grandma, I was overwhelmed with pride.
It’s true. The past is made of bits and pieces of beautiful memories. The future holds mysteries yet to unfold. But the present moment is an amazing thing. Grandchildren reflect past influences and project future possibilities. Some just sparkle in the moment as they dance across the stage of their lives. If you have that kind of grandchild, you know. Those of us that do are indeed very, very fortunate.
Going back to past home and life can be draining. Ghosts pop out of nowhere. Lunch with friends at my high school cafeteria. Piemonte’s on a date. The Chicken Pie Shop with my mom. The ranch. Orange trees ripe with fruit. The boring grey-blue sky with not a sign of weather. The flat terrain. All amidst a sea of grapes and other crops. Returning to my childhood home is never without a price. California holds more of my heart than I’ll ever admit. It feels good to return to Winterpast and my true present.
Spending the weekend with my oldest and best-est girlfriend while watching her interact with my newest and best-est boyfriend was golden. Making Memories of Us continues with laughter and new experiences. The Mysterious Marine received a glowing report from the woman I trust with my life. Feelings were mutual. It just doesn’t get better than that.
Thanksgiving is just days away now. As the year is racing towards the end, I want to slow time during the next weeks and enjoy every part of this, the most beautiful time of year. Christmas boxes await unpacking. Decorations need placing. Pies need baking. Through all that, the reason for the season is front and center. Not Santa Claus or the prettiest tree. Reasons to celebrate live in the heart. It’s my favorite time of year.
Whatever you do today, try not to get too frustrated with chores and an endless list of chores in preparation for family and friends. Take some time to reflect on the past months. This year has been full of lessons, miracles, and memories too numerous to count. Life is beautiful.
More tomorrow.