I’m still flying high from Will’s play

There was something so special, so full-circle feel about the whole thing, sitting there in the darkened theater Don, Will’s dad and I, watching our boy, not just perform well, but soar. 

“He owned that stage,“ Karen said, in the intermission.  And he did.  You couldn’t help but watch him, be drawn in by him. 

It’s like his body took on a whole different physicality than the one I am used to seeing.  A different mindset, way of talking, but it didn’t feel like acting.  It was becoming, diving in, deeper and deeper until I couldn’t tell where my boy left off and S_____i took over.  I was so proud and relieved and moved.  All that hard work that Will did.  Hours and hours of it, night after night, weekends too.

And now there we were, watching our boy, closing night, hopeful and humbled.  Our breath held, bodies straining forward, hearts too.  And then it was over, the curtain call, the roar of the crowd as Will took his bow and everyone surged to their feet.  Clapping, shouting.  Everyone.  Not just those of us who know and love him, strangers too.  A whole room of strangers. 

Our boy, he did it.  And the relief I feel, because he had to carry the play and the material was difficult and weighty, and he did it.  He did it!  And I have this feeling, like if he could do this, then anything is possible for him.  Anything at all.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, December 01, 2008 in Chewing the Fat