Dearest Anne GG,
I have been thinking of you all week, for I know you are preparing for the big event, coming due after long months of preparation and labor. It is something special, and something that not all of us get to experience, quite, seeing that precious seed of an idea become implanted in your head, then form, gestate, reform, and become a complete whole.
This weekend it takes a new life and receives its own existence apart from you. You are still its mother, but you will be called on to separate yourself from it, in a way, and not return to it in the same way ever again. And you will say, “It is good,” and you will rest.
We are anxious to see your progeny, this play that has consumed your energy for a very long time. I will ask you to sign my playbill and I will cherish it as a memory in my heart.
With love and great pride,
Mother
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2 comments:
Oh mommy! It's a small death, isn't it -- waiting for this thing to go up, knowing that it won't really belong to me anymore. A jarring foretaste of motherhood.
You may think of the play as your wayward grandchild.
Anne GG,
Your play was breathtaking. I began to get a real sense of how deep and excellent it is on the second viewing.
I was overwhelmed and very pleased with my "grandchild." I would love to read it, now that I've seen it.
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