One of those things

The links in this post may be affiliate links.  That means that if you click them and make a purchase, this site makes a commission.  It will have no impact on the price you pay or the experience of your purchase.

Have you ever had an experience that was magic?
When you think back on it, it was clouds parting, angels singing, calorie-free chocolate rays of sunshiney perfection.
You know those things, right?
That's what our first Listen to Your Mother rehearsal was, 3 weeks ago.

A room full of (basically) strangers, opening our hearts and mouths to share our stories, for the first time.
I had no idea what to expect, walking in that day.

I heard amazing stories.
I felt outclassed as a writer.
I felt incredibly blessed just to be there.

Heading home after the rehearsal and dinner, with 2 cast members I'd carpooled with, our conversation was different.
Gone was the timid, “So what do you do?” and “Kids?” conversation of the ride there.
We knew each others' stories, and shared our thoughts openly and freely.

We parted ways with hugs and “See you soons” and that was it.

I reveled in the memory of the perfection of that afternoon. The tears, the laughter, the shared performance nerves, the community.

Until this past Sunday.

Our second, and last, rehearsal before showtime.

I hitched a ride with the same 2 cast members, but this time greeted them with hugs and chatter.

We arrived at the venue and found our rehearsal room.

Instantly, hugging everyone in the room, thoughtful hand squeezes, arranging salads and wine for our shared dinner after rehearsal.

After some logistics reviewing with our amazing directors, we got underway, each reader stepping up to the podium, in show order.

We had all heard the stories before.

But still we were riveted.

It isn't that the stories got funnier, or more poignant, or more heartbreaking.

And yet, they were.

One reader, the mere MENTION of her piece sent us all into hysterics, laughing, at the mere memory of her tale.

Another one, just seeing her approach the podium lodged a lump in my throat that wouldn't move until she finished speaking.

It's like the pieces got better with age. With age? Not age, context. Having had time to talk to these women, these writers, each story hits me just where it needs to.

It's even more perfect than it was.

Even more magic.

Please, please, if you don't already have plans on Mother's Day evening, we would love to have you join us for San Francisco's second annual Listen to Your Mother show. Come see the magic for yourself. Click here for tickets

Thank you to the lovely Yuliya Patsay for sharing her photos of our rehearsal!