We left the stage for the final time, tired, exhausted, sad. A group of people--some we knew for years, some we never knew before. With the costumes stowed in the dressing rooms and the props returned to their proper place, we took our place--no longer a part of the show, but as players in our own personal histories, histories we each will carry with us long after the heat from the spotlights dissipates and the hum from the soundboard fades into the blackened air.
We rehearsed for months and performed for weeks. We came to smile at each other behind the curtain as we prepared for each show, each "Remember--it's Opening Night for this audience" speeches, each "if it's not yours, don't touch it" council (wise council for other things as well...), each "West Treat Wednesday," and each "Friday Night at Chili's after the show." We formed friendships and swapped inside jokes, and we were awed by the talent of each other and what the collective created.
No, the world didn't end on December 21, 2012 but the show for our cast did. Each production's like a life. We gather, knowing little, and then we're trained. We practice and find the strengths and weaknesses in ourselves and each other. We compensate and adapt, work hard and succeed. And then it ends and we're sad, for a time. Until, of course, the next show begins. Here's to my cast, my friends, my theater family. Well done. Take care. God bless, and Merry Christmas!