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Matthew Edison…take two

Matthew plays my son in The Real World? Or more accurately, I play his mother. 

Wait.  That isn’t accurate at all.  I’m not his real mother.  I’m the one he wrote. 

Sometimes, I flatter myself though, tell myself, I am his real mother.  His true mother.  The one that loves him unconditionally.  That is so proud and grateful that he wrote this play, gave me words, life.  I am the truth.  His truth. 

That’s what I tell myself.

But am I?  That’s up for discussion.  A discussion I don’t need to take part of.  People can have their opinions.  They might differ from mine.  And they might or might not be right. 

So, I feel very proud of him, Claude, Madeline’s son, but it doesn’t stop there.  The pride slides over, reality and the acting world melding.  I feel so proud of Matthew for his brilliant acting, how he becomes Claude so well, understands him, his longings so deeply.  When he, as the character, finally confronts his father, says the things that need to be said.  I feel proud of him, for the words his character wrote for me, that he saw what I and Madeline 1 had hid away for years. 

It’s weird, because Matthew didn’t write this play.  Michael Tremblay did.  And yet, I feel a swell of pride in my chest when I watch the other scenes and see what he has crafted.

And when the play is done and we are taking our bows, Jane and I meet up centre stage and bow and it’s cozy standing next to her, the two of us, bowing together.  And then Matthew, my character’s son comes out of the wings, walk towards us, and the play is over, but still that mother/son connection is still there.  And my heart swells with that motherly pride of what a good job he did, and I watch him stride towards us, standing tall, all of us happy we did a good show that people are clapping and cheering.  And I’m so proud of him.  And he bows and I bow too, because he’s the bow leader, we take our cue off of him.

Um… well… Okay, it isn’t supposed to go like that. 

Matthew is suppose to get a bow by himself! And then we’re all suppose to bow together.  But there I am, bobbing like a monkey.  Me and Matthew, taking Matthew’s bow!  Sheesh!  And to make matters worse, I’m not even aware that I’m doing it!  Last night I came off stage SO pleased with myself, doing a happy dance.  “I did it!”  I crowed happily.  “I finally got the bow right!”

“Um…No, Meg… You didn’t,” said Cara, laughter in her voice. 

At first I thought she was kidding me, but then Cliff weighed in.  “You bowed on Matthew’s bow again.”

“No…”  My eyes darting back and forth between them, my brain so confused.  “I didn’t.  Did I?” 

Yes.  I had.

Matthew was lovely.  Very gracious.  He thought it was funny.  Told me to Etch-a-sketch it.  But I was horrified.  I don’t want him to think I’m always going to muscle in on his bow.

I got up early today.  I am making him a batch of brownies.  I am hoping, praying that I can somehow manage not to make a complete ass of myself again in the curtain calls tonight.