Role Call

I have been in exactly two theatrical performances in my life--one when I was 11 (and in which I was demoted to a smaller part by my wise, wise teacher) and another when I was in my early 30s.  Apparently, I needed those 20 years in between performances to marinate as an actress.

Last Saturday, I revived two roles that had been underutilized of late--the roles of "sister" and "daughter."  And, while a person might expect a blip in quality, given my lack of practice, it was a delight for me to play myself again.  In fact, it was downright liberating to put away "mom" and "teacher," "neighbor" and "friend" and focus solely upon my earliest, deepest roles in this life.

If we are lucky--and I am lucky in this way--there are people in our lives with whom we have a "just add water" ease, even if months or years or many miles have separated us.  And, in those instances when we manage to bridge all that time and space, it is as though we'd been holding our breath all along.  And finally--finally!--we can let it go.

That's how I felt on Saturday, in the car with my mom and sister, looking out the window and marveling at how long Fall had hung on this year.  That's how I felt Saturday in the coffee shop below my brother's apartment, sharing a lemon muffin with the same people I share a genetic code with.  That's how I felt Saturday, lingering in front of a painting, listening to my siblings and mom debating whether or not it had been painted onto wood, and finally deciding that the artist had actually figured out how to make wood with nothing more than a brush and some colors.

Twenty years ago, while gathering up the nerve to begin a scene from "A Midsummer Night's Dream," I remember wondering--just moments before my character spoke--if the words I'd practiced over and over again would find their way out of me, preferably in the right order.  And marveling that--somehow--they tumbled out as if on their own.  It was all so strange and magical and natural, this bending of time and this coming together of dusty, old phrases.

That's how I felt on Saturday, abuzz from this ancient thrumming that had been there all along, patiently waiting to be called into action again.  Amazed and grateful that it felt so natural.  Mighty glad to be there for it.