The importance of family to me is obvious from my previous posts. I have been blessed with the most supportive, hilarious, and loving family. I know this to be true and I am grateful for it every day. A few weeks ago I had the extreme pleasure to sing with my hometown opera company. The production was lively, colorful and most importantly well attended. The true boon of this experience was getting to spend a lot of quality time with my Dad. We had such a wonderful time singing together at church, teaching together at the high school where he was brought on to do some coaching, and exploring new culinary delights in El Paso. WHY must there be so many culinary delights in El Paso?? There isn't a corner store that doesn't boast a delectable treat or some sort. For a foodie such as myself it is a veritable playground.
When I returned to New York my heart and soul remained with my family and I had this overwhelming urge to visit my cousins in Mississippi for Easter. I am a planning fool when it comes to travel and the idea of a spontaneous trip is quite unlike me. But the urge was there and I knew I would be happier if I took the leap. Luckily, I had good airfare karma. Also, trying to implement my NOW credo I made the arrangements.
I'm so elated I made this trip. My cousins made me feel like a Queen. I got to spend time with my impressive and so very adult cousin Laura. She is a graduate student at LSU and I am so in awe of the woman she has become. I really enjoyed our time together and could not be prouder of what she and her sisters have accomplished. My sweet cousin Martha treated me as one of her own and even had an easter basket waiting for me when I arrived Friday night. It was chock full of treasures and it was such a welcoming gesture. Martha and my Mother were extremely close. They were raised more like sisters than cousins. She has some of the same mannerisms and sensibilities of Mom. I hadn't realized how similar they were until I just observed her in the kitchen. It struck me that I craved her presence because I wanted to be near my Mother. I hadn't even realized this until this moment.
We were treated to an Easter feast that afternoon and I had the joy of spending time with my other cousin Dennis and his family. Their daughter has grown into a lovely young woman and I was so pleased to get so see them all. Kay even had a little Christmas present for me! I felt so warm and cherished this weekend.
I am deeply grateful for my family. It is easy for me to feel disconnected from them because I live so far away. I also admit that I am not the best at keeping in touch. But thats the rub, they are your family and part of you resides in them just as they reside in you. I need but look in the mirror or to my sister to see my Mothers face or hear her sweet voice. She is in us. What a lucky woman I am, indeed.
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Friday, April 12, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
NOW!
Spring is struggling here in the big apple. The buds are pushing through with a stubborn east coast focus against this endless chill that has settled over the city. It is a clear, blue skied morning here in upper manhattan. The breeze flows through my gauzy curtains, even if it must worm its way across the heat blast of my out of control radiator. Even though the winter is long, spring in inevitable. It may take months to fully realize the transition but New Yorkers will once again be fanning themselves on subway platforms and complaining about the muggy, claustrophobic air that engulfs the city in the summer time.
Perhaps this year we won't complain as much. Knowing what a hard winter we had will somehow affect that inevitable "complain" sensor that most New Yorkers have. I have it. For example, I can't stand in line. I hate it. When I am out of the city and must stand in line I blame whatever part of the country I'm in, what country I'm in, the climate, attitude and general being of whomever has to be in my orbit as I'm waiting in line. Disneyland and I are not always on good terms because of this. Fast pass...really? But I digress. There seems to be a switch that flips when one thing moves to another. That itchy reserve nerve simply resonates to spew my displeasure at the situation. It is draining!
I am working hard to appreciate things when they happen, in the here and now. My life sometimes is a huge puzzle board of a waiting game. I WAIT for the next gig only to go on said gig and WAIT to get home to my loved ones. It is a vicious cycle that I had no idea I was a victim of, until recently. So, I'm making a pledge to remain in the now and be at peace with my situation. Whether it be a sitzprobe or waiting in line at a midtown Duane Reade, I'm going to resolve to take it as it comes. Yes, I'm hard core like that, have you ever been to a midtown Duane Reade? If I make it through this little experiment I will emerge on the other side a fully satisfied Melsy. It's a big goal, being in the hear and now. I've struggled to be present because I live in a city who is always looking 6 months in advance. For example I know that I will be sporting a lovely burnt orange scarf with my leather "moto" jacket this fall. Cannot wait!
So, dear readers i charge you to take a breath, be still and feel what you feel WHEN you feel it. NOW! and now and now and now. Who knows what treasures we'll find?
xo
~Mel
Perhaps this year we won't complain as much. Knowing what a hard winter we had will somehow affect that inevitable "complain" sensor that most New Yorkers have. I have it. For example, I can't stand in line. I hate it. When I am out of the city and must stand in line I blame whatever part of the country I'm in, what country I'm in, the climate, attitude and general being of whomever has to be in my orbit as I'm waiting in line. Disneyland and I are not always on good terms because of this. Fast pass...really? But I digress. There seems to be a switch that flips when one thing moves to another. That itchy reserve nerve simply resonates to spew my displeasure at the situation. It is draining!
I am working hard to appreciate things when they happen, in the here and now. My life sometimes is a huge puzzle board of a waiting game. I WAIT for the next gig only to go on said gig and WAIT to get home to my loved ones. It is a vicious cycle that I had no idea I was a victim of, until recently. So, I'm making a pledge to remain in the now and be at peace with my situation. Whether it be a sitzprobe or waiting in line at a midtown Duane Reade, I'm going to resolve to take it as it comes. Yes, I'm hard core like that, have you ever been to a midtown Duane Reade? If I make it through this little experiment I will emerge on the other side a fully satisfied Melsy. It's a big goal, being in the hear and now. I've struggled to be present because I live in a city who is always looking 6 months in advance. For example I know that I will be sporting a lovely burnt orange scarf with my leather "moto" jacket this fall. Cannot wait!
So, dear readers i charge you to take a breath, be still and feel what you feel WHEN you feel it. NOW! and now and now and now. Who knows what treasures we'll find?
xo
~Mel
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
All you need is...
Fill in the blank dear reader. That dastardly fellow cupid is winging it's way to it's glory day. Fast approaching is the day of chocolate, over priced roses and trinkets be-speckled with the charms and baubles of loves trappings. You may think this a rant about the commercialism and hype of V Day but you would be wrong.
Years ago I wore black, sent sympathy cards and burned candles under the angry moon and generally raged against the idea of this little bump in the February road. I'm a reformed rager friends, I love Valentines Day. Is it because I have hunk-a hunk-a burning man meat roasting on my romantic spit? No, it's because I embrace the very idea of love in this crazy world. I've been a closet romantic for years. I secretly wished for a hollywood landscape strewn with petals and bubbles and shiny objet galore. My musical score chock full of giant Bruckner-esque chords of hope and swelling amorous rises in pitch and intent. Gone With The Wind "fabulous" has nothing on my inner romantic dreamscape.
I'm coming out. Yep, if Jodie Foster can do it, so can I. I'm coming out as a hopeless romantic who relishes those that I love and adore. Yes, I do have heart shaped chocolate in my possession, yes I did hand make wrapping paper for my Valentine's day gifts, and yes, I am planning on wearing at least one item of clothing on Thursday that has a heart on it.
Romance is in the air and I'm lucky to have love in my life. Most especially my love OF life. I'm wrapping up all this heart felt diatribe and giving it to myself. I'm so grateful for my existence. I'm exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. So self, you will be receiving some amazing things on Thursday, the least of which is a hand crafted confection of your choosing. As for the rest of you lovelies, you know who you are, yes, you can have a cookie or two. For I love you and celebrate my time with your countenance. See you Thursday. I'll be the one glowing with love of oneself and of those around me.
Love,
~Mel
Years ago I wore black, sent sympathy cards and burned candles under the angry moon and generally raged against the idea of this little bump in the February road. I'm a reformed rager friends, I love Valentines Day. Is it because I have hunk-a hunk-a burning man meat roasting on my romantic spit? No, it's because I embrace the very idea of love in this crazy world. I've been a closet romantic for years. I secretly wished for a hollywood landscape strewn with petals and bubbles and shiny objet galore. My musical score chock full of giant Bruckner-esque chords of hope and swelling amorous rises in pitch and intent. Gone With The Wind "fabulous" has nothing on my inner romantic dreamscape.
I'm coming out. Yep, if Jodie Foster can do it, so can I. I'm coming out as a hopeless romantic who relishes those that I love and adore. Yes, I do have heart shaped chocolate in my possession, yes I did hand make wrapping paper for my Valentine's day gifts, and yes, I am planning on wearing at least one item of clothing on Thursday that has a heart on it.
Romance is in the air and I'm lucky to have love in my life. Most especially my love OF life. I'm wrapping up all this heart felt diatribe and giving it to myself. I'm so grateful for my existence. I'm exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. So self, you will be receiving some amazing things on Thursday, the least of which is a hand crafted confection of your choosing. As for the rest of you lovelies, you know who you are, yes, you can have a cookie or two. For I love you and celebrate my time with your countenance. See you Thursday. I'll be the one glowing with love of oneself and of those around me.
Love,
~Mel
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Plugging In
There is a strange part of my lifestyle that many opera singers do not talk about. It is the mysterious, daunting, and sometimes maddening....DOWN time! I've been truly blessed with the work I've had over the years. My calendar is often full and I thrive off of challenges and busy schedules. I love working hard and when I am in the midst I am at my most happy. When I am not working, I'm often learning music, doing laundry and trying to find the social life I once had. Now, is such a time. Oh, I have projects I can work on. I have many recitals this season and am learning new music for all of them... excellent. But can one really translate and sing Brahms for 10 hours a day? Maybe a better woman than I.
I've had the amazing opportunity to actually TAKE a vacation this August. I visited friends in New Orleans and had such a fine time. I spent hours by the pool, drinking fruity drinks, laughing and basking in the south that i so adore. Honestly, why don't I live in the South? It's where I feel most comfortable and at ease. I've been on this side of the country for 20 years. I can hardly read the words and believe them. Honestly, I'm such a restless soul that anywhere I put down roots my itchy feet demand that I explore and travel this big blue marble.
One thing that I have noticed since my life has evolved is that I am an isolator and a bit of a loner. I LOVE people. I love my friends and family but there always seems a point when I need to be alone. I'm like Mom in that respect. She loved her circle but sometimes was most at home in her garden or on the back porch watching her beloved birds. She was so lucky to have found my Father early in her life and he understood this facet of her. Sadly, I don't have that luxury. When I'm alone, I'm alone and there are times where I wonder where the vivacious and social animal of my past went? Am I becoming agoraphobic? Am I simply a homebody who can spend hours reading, singing and clearing out the closet that seems to expand with each passing day. I realized that I know thousands of people but am close to few. My schedule is often so hectic that I've missed countless drink invites, dinner requests and parties over the years. For this I feel horrible. And so dear friends I'm offering a hearty apology. I want to be present in my life. I'm really working on this. It's easy for me to become so involved in a project that I shutter the doors and only emerge, suitcase in hand, jetting off to a new adventure and new friends.
Well, I'm making a pledge to plug back in and enjoy my life.
I've had the amazing opportunity to actually TAKE a vacation this August. I visited friends in New Orleans and had such a fine time. I spent hours by the pool, drinking fruity drinks, laughing and basking in the south that i so adore. Honestly, why don't I live in the South? It's where I feel most comfortable and at ease. I've been on this side of the country for 20 years. I can hardly read the words and believe them. Honestly, I'm such a restless soul that anywhere I put down roots my itchy feet demand that I explore and travel this big blue marble.
One thing that I have noticed since my life has evolved is that I am an isolator and a bit of a loner. I LOVE people. I love my friends and family but there always seems a point when I need to be alone. I'm like Mom in that respect. She loved her circle but sometimes was most at home in her garden or on the back porch watching her beloved birds. She was so lucky to have found my Father early in her life and he understood this facet of her. Sadly, I don't have that luxury. When I'm alone, I'm alone and there are times where I wonder where the vivacious and social animal of my past went? Am I becoming agoraphobic? Am I simply a homebody who can spend hours reading, singing and clearing out the closet that seems to expand with each passing day. I realized that I know thousands of people but am close to few. My schedule is often so hectic that I've missed countless drink invites, dinner requests and parties over the years. For this I feel horrible. And so dear friends I'm offering a hearty apology. I want to be present in my life. I'm really working on this. It's easy for me to become so involved in a project that I shutter the doors and only emerge, suitcase in hand, jetting off to a new adventure and new friends.
Well, I'm making a pledge to plug back in and enjoy my life.
Friday, June 15, 2012
A pain that I am used to
Hello from Tulsa Blogosphere!!! I'm writing you on the very eve of my opening of Gypsy. It has been a rollicking and active last few months and I apologize for letting my blog lapse. The title of this blog entry refers to a song from one of my favorite bands of all times. Honestly I could start a new blog based entirely on my teenage like frenzy I have for them. Those that know me well know this band is the magnificent Depeche Mode. Yes, I know, still.....I hear some groans from old classmates, but yes, they are my favorite and I'm stand behind every synthesized pop, squeak and wail they grace me with.
I'm here in Tulsa to sing Momma Rose for the first, and hopefully not last time. It has been a journey filled with angsty late night chats, sweaty rehearsals, sore feet and vocal gymnastics of the baritone variety. Who did he write this for anyway? Sherrril Milnes???? But I digress, this process has helped me on my grief journey is a really unexpected way. Let me tell you folks, being called "Momma" five thousand times a day kind of takes the sting out of cringing every time the word is spoken. It's like sensory overload. Momma this Momma that....it is endless. Even I call myself Momma about ten thousand times during the show. So I'm hear to tell ya, if you ever need to get over something just do it a million times and the pain will fade away.
I've spoken before about wanting to talk to Mom, wanting to dream about her and even see her again. There have been points in this process that I've picked up the phone to call her. I do that on just about every show. There is always that precarious day when I know that I can't do this. That I'm not getting it. That I'm simply not the right person for the job. Mom and Dad both have listened to me rant and rave about these little doubts my entire life. They both always listen and let me talk my way back to knowing that I can do anything I set my mind too. I've started talking to Mom more. I know she is listening. There was a wonderful movie with Robin Williams called What Dreams May Come. It dealt with the issue of loss in a unique and beautiful way. In one scene Williams, who had passed away, comes back to find his widow despondent. Every time he tried to be near her or talk to her the pain of his presence was so great she would crumble. The pain was too fresh and present. I think about this often as I can now talk about Mom without always tearing up, I can smell her perfume and think of the happy times and I can now openly and proudly speak to her about my joys and sorrows. The pain of losing her is still with me but I'm growing used to it. Time has allowed me to feel her near me again. That is a wonderful gift that I am so grateful for.
Well, on to trod the boards in Tulsa. I've heard every thing's coming up roses.....we shall just have to wait and see.
xo
~Mel
I'm here in Tulsa to sing Momma Rose for the first, and hopefully not last time. It has been a journey filled with angsty late night chats, sweaty rehearsals, sore feet and vocal gymnastics of the baritone variety. Who did he write this for anyway? Sherrril Milnes???? But I digress, this process has helped me on my grief journey is a really unexpected way. Let me tell you folks, being called "Momma" five thousand times a day kind of takes the sting out of cringing every time the word is spoken. It's like sensory overload. Momma this Momma that....it is endless. Even I call myself Momma about ten thousand times during the show. So I'm hear to tell ya, if you ever need to get over something just do it a million times and the pain will fade away.
I've spoken before about wanting to talk to Mom, wanting to dream about her and even see her again. There have been points in this process that I've picked up the phone to call her. I do that on just about every show. There is always that precarious day when I know that I can't do this. That I'm not getting it. That I'm simply not the right person for the job. Mom and Dad both have listened to me rant and rave about these little doubts my entire life. They both always listen and let me talk my way back to knowing that I can do anything I set my mind too. I've started talking to Mom more. I know she is listening. There was a wonderful movie with Robin Williams called What Dreams May Come. It dealt with the issue of loss in a unique and beautiful way. In one scene Williams, who had passed away, comes back to find his widow despondent. Every time he tried to be near her or talk to her the pain of his presence was so great she would crumble. The pain was too fresh and present. I think about this often as I can now talk about Mom without always tearing up, I can smell her perfume and think of the happy times and I can now openly and proudly speak to her about my joys and sorrows. The pain of losing her is still with me but I'm growing used to it. Time has allowed me to feel her near me again. That is a wonderful gift that I am so grateful for.
Well, on to trod the boards in Tulsa. I've heard every thing's coming up roses.....we shall just have to wait and see.
xo
~Mel
Friday, January 27, 2012
The magic of rainbows
Hello dear readers,
I know it's been quite a while since I have put finger to keypad but life rollicks along at an unrelenting pace at times. The pace has been a good one. Lots of work and family time have filled my coffers and I am so grateful for the opportunities afforded me. Honestly, I purposely stayed away from the blog at the holidays because I just couldn't handle writing about the first Thanksgiving...the first Christmas....first this first that...since my Mom left our world. It seemed morbid and quite frankly I wasn't strong enough to share my feelings and experiences.
Now it comes down to the biggest "first of all". A Herculean hurtle of a day that has me at one moment staring off into the distance and at another frantically tackling a long laundry list of to do's. It has been raining for two days here in New York. Persistent gentle rain accompanied by fog and an opaque gray sky. I awoke this morning to a gentle breeze and a dense haze rising off of the Hudson River. It is almost 60 degrees here and the warm rain hitting the icy waters has created a giant halloween cauldron out of the river. It was quite the site. I watched with disbelief as wave upon wave of fog rose and billowed away. It felt as if the fog would never lift and the clouds were a permanent fixture in my little upstate manhattan world. Grey feeling joined Mother nature and I retreated to my bed where I have been nursing an out back for the last few days. I had planned a long day of activites for myself. Manicure/ Pedicure, movie and shopping, a museum stop and a trip to the Chelsea flower market all to celebrate my Mother's love of beautiful things. And yet, I sit here rooted to my leather club chair, sporting my uniform of yoga pants and tank top, scouring the on demand channels for distraction. My energy level is beyond low and although I've had coffee and sustenance I am lethargic and wanting. Then the tiniest little spring breeze broke through my apartment. Yes, i said spring. The low lying cement clouds seemed to shuffle off and a little peak of blue sky shone through the mire. I glanced up to see the small forming of a rainbow on the horizon.
Such is life I suppose. At times so fogged in that even the possibility of a glimmer is beyond comprehension. But the light always breaks through and signs are sent from Heaven to help us continue on and even relish and enjoy every moment of this precious life. My Mother was such a light and she graced me today with a sign I will carry in my heart for the rest of my days.
I love you precious Momma. I miss you every day but know that I carry you in the rainbow that is my life.
I know it's been quite a while since I have put finger to keypad but life rollicks along at an unrelenting pace at times. The pace has been a good one. Lots of work and family time have filled my coffers and I am so grateful for the opportunities afforded me. Honestly, I purposely stayed away from the blog at the holidays because I just couldn't handle writing about the first Thanksgiving...the first Christmas....first this first that...since my Mom left our world. It seemed morbid and quite frankly I wasn't strong enough to share my feelings and experiences.
Now it comes down to the biggest "first of all". A Herculean hurtle of a day that has me at one moment staring off into the distance and at another frantically tackling a long laundry list of to do's. It has been raining for two days here in New York. Persistent gentle rain accompanied by fog and an opaque gray sky. I awoke this morning to a gentle breeze and a dense haze rising off of the Hudson River. It is almost 60 degrees here and the warm rain hitting the icy waters has created a giant halloween cauldron out of the river. It was quite the site. I watched with disbelief as wave upon wave of fog rose and billowed away. It felt as if the fog would never lift and the clouds were a permanent fixture in my little upstate manhattan world. Grey feeling joined Mother nature and I retreated to my bed where I have been nursing an out back for the last few days. I had planned a long day of activites for myself. Manicure/ Pedicure, movie and shopping, a museum stop and a trip to the Chelsea flower market all to celebrate my Mother's love of beautiful things. And yet, I sit here rooted to my leather club chair, sporting my uniform of yoga pants and tank top, scouring the on demand channels for distraction. My energy level is beyond low and although I've had coffee and sustenance I am lethargic and wanting. Then the tiniest little spring breeze broke through my apartment. Yes, i said spring. The low lying cement clouds seemed to shuffle off and a little peak of blue sky shone through the mire. I glanced up to see the small forming of a rainbow on the horizon.
Such is life I suppose. At times so fogged in that even the possibility of a glimmer is beyond comprehension. But the light always breaks through and signs are sent from Heaven to help us continue on and even relish and enjoy every moment of this precious life. My Mother was such a light and she graced me today with a sign I will carry in my heart for the rest of my days.
I love you precious Momma. I miss you every day but know that I carry you in the rainbow that is my life.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Dos Equis
What a roller coaster of a career I have chosen? Honestly, would I have it any other way? I have a feeling I'm not really a monorail kind of chick but there are times when one does like to take a break from the ups and downs and enjoy some personal time with the cotton candy vendor.
My last post reflected the process i was working through on my last production. I'm here to gladly report that I am in fact.....Large..hell, X X Large( two 'Xs)...not the small I was so worried I would be. The production of The Medium/Carmina Burana was very well received and it was a true pleasure to create such a magical and frightening world with my colleagues. Everyone was on the same page, from the first day of rehearsal and finding such a safe place to explore some very dark themes is cathartic and welcomed. My Father traveled to see the production and saw it THREE times! We had such a wonderful week together. Think..CASINO! Dad and I supported the economic growth of the Motor City with lots of slot machine pulls and even managed to walk away with a few pennies in our pocket. I loved it! After having him in the audience for 3 performances it was very difficult knowing he wasn't out there for the remaining three. I could feel his energy from the crowd and his unwaivering support of me ranks up there with the great wall of China as one of the mighty wonders of the world.
My current project is Marriage of Figaro. Marcellina is role I've played many times...9 to be precise. I know this opera inside and out. The Act 2 finale never fails to engender a musical stirring in me. Not really from MY music, but from the collection of perfect tones Mozart scattered on that parchment. It is a miracle every time I hear it. It grounds me and gives me succor when my mind is racing to balancing issues in the sextet or what precisely WAS that cut in Act 4. Living in the now, Mozart style.
I've been in Detroit for about 7 thousand weeks now. My hotel room is lived in, my luggage is dusty and I'm overdosed on lean cuisines and string cheese. (That is about all my tiny bar fridge will hold). I've enjoyed this time of reflection. There have been a few dark nights of the soul but that's life I suppose. The oddest thing is my lack of sleep. I simply cannot sleep in this hotel...at night. I have resorted to Tylenol Pm and luckily most rehearsals start in the afternoon so I manage to fill ye olde sleep docket. It's been strange. My thoughts are always with Mom. After 8 months I finally had a dream about her that wasn't a nightmare. She was restored to full health and it was a normal spring day. Nothing special occurred other than her being there. It was wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time. I feel her around me at this time. I haven't before, not like this. When she died I had this ridiculous notion that she would just appear to me and assure me everything was wonderful. That we would have this mortal coil bending relationship. I was actually angry that she hasn't appeared. It's irrational. After all, she is busy! I can only imagine the activities she is organizing. Not to mention the heavy duty guardian angel duties she is shouldering these days. Still, I really appreciate that she made the time to spend with me in dreamland. I look forward to our next foray.
My last post reflected the process i was working through on my last production. I'm here to gladly report that I am in fact.....Large..hell, X X Large( two 'Xs)...not the small I was so worried I would be. The production of The Medium/Carmina Burana was very well received and it was a true pleasure to create such a magical and frightening world with my colleagues. Everyone was on the same page, from the first day of rehearsal and finding such a safe place to explore some very dark themes is cathartic and welcomed. My Father traveled to see the production and saw it THREE times! We had such a wonderful week together. Think..CASINO! Dad and I supported the economic growth of the Motor City with lots of slot machine pulls and even managed to walk away with a few pennies in our pocket. I loved it! After having him in the audience for 3 performances it was very difficult knowing he wasn't out there for the remaining three. I could feel his energy from the crowd and his unwaivering support of me ranks up there with the great wall of China as one of the mighty wonders of the world.
My current project is Marriage of Figaro. Marcellina is role I've played many times...9 to be precise. I know this opera inside and out. The Act 2 finale never fails to engender a musical stirring in me. Not really from MY music, but from the collection of perfect tones Mozart scattered on that parchment. It is a miracle every time I hear it. It grounds me and gives me succor when my mind is racing to balancing issues in the sextet or what precisely WAS that cut in Act 4. Living in the now, Mozart style.
I've been in Detroit for about 7 thousand weeks now. My hotel room is lived in, my luggage is dusty and I'm overdosed on lean cuisines and string cheese. (That is about all my tiny bar fridge will hold). I've enjoyed this time of reflection. There have been a few dark nights of the soul but that's life I suppose. The oddest thing is my lack of sleep. I simply cannot sleep in this hotel...at night. I have resorted to Tylenol Pm and luckily most rehearsals start in the afternoon so I manage to fill ye olde sleep docket. It's been strange. My thoughts are always with Mom. After 8 months I finally had a dream about her that wasn't a nightmare. She was restored to full health and it was a normal spring day. Nothing special occurred other than her being there. It was wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time. I feel her around me at this time. I haven't before, not like this. When she died I had this ridiculous notion that she would just appear to me and assure me everything was wonderful. That we would have this mortal coil bending relationship. I was actually angry that she hasn't appeared. It's irrational. After all, she is busy! I can only imagine the activities she is organizing. Not to mention the heavy duty guardian angel duties she is shouldering these days. Still, I really appreciate that she made the time to spend with me in dreamland. I look forward to our next foray.
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