The Notebook

 

When we went to the merchandise table before the show,

They were selling little boxes of tissues.

I asked Jes the Doctor if she thought we needed to buy some tissues

But she said no, 

That we would be OK.

At intermission, she confessed that we should’ve bought the tissues! :-)

 

Jes used her hand to wipe away her tears.

I just let them stream down my face, onto my chest and my shirt,

And I didn’t bother to even try wiping them away as they were flowing.

There were a few moments when I felt like I couldn’t breathe,

My chest was tight and I felt like I just needed to make some noise as Heidi the Librarian says, 

But I couldn’t make any noise because I was in the middle of watching The Notebook Musical. 

I could hear sniffles from all over the auditorium and I could hear Jes struggling to pull herself together. 

It’s not uncommon for the tears to come with me,

But it’s rare for Jes to cry. 

She’s a doctor.

She sees a lot.

But in this case, it was the seeing that hooked her in a powerful way.

 

If you’ve never read the book or seen the movie or stage show,

The Notebook is a love story that centers around a wife with Alzheimer’s.

The husband, deeply devoted to his wife, reads their story to her from a notebook every day in hopes that she will “come back.”

The musical does a superb job portraying the confusion and heartbreak that one with Alzheimer’s must feel.

Some of the scenes are gutwrenchingly powerful.

Just thinking about them now, and the challenges that people with Alzheimer’s and their caretakers must face, makes me teary-eyed.

 

I’ve been talking a lot about caretaking over the past couple of weeks since I’ve been helping take care of my aunt who was visiting NC and got very sick.

I have been thrown into a world of people who tend to suffer quietly, 

Doing what they can and must do to take care of those they love.

Short-term disabilities, long-term disabilities, terminal illnesses, children with special needs, people with dementia or Alzheimer’s, people struggling to overcome addiction, people whose bodies are just getting old…

There are so many levels of caretaking. 

They are all hard.

They all present their own challenges.

But it seems to me that people dealing with Alzheimer’s might just have it the hardest, 

Their loved ones being stuck in their bodies and memories,

Not knowing who they are or remembering their lives, 

Oftentimes showing an angry side to themselves that no one ever expected to see. 

 

And so we cry. 

We cry for those stuck in their bodies and we cry for those who so desperately want to help them out. 

We cry for hurt and pain and exhaustion  and shattered dreams and lost hopes and heartbreak. 

We cry for patients and families and caregivers and workers who try to provide dignity in life.

We cry for those suffering in mental and emotional pain and we cry for those who feel that they are alone. 

We cry for beautiful harmonies and memories and the fabric that weaves together our lives. 

And we cry for ourselves, our insecurities, our helplessness, and our fears. 

 

The next time I go to a show that sells tissues as a souvenir, 

I will certainly be buying them! 

And I think that Jes the Doctor will, too, 

Because some stories are just too powerful not to cry.

 

Amen. 

Shows

 

I’m fortunate to have season tickets to Broadway Series South at DPAC.

Season tickets encourage me to see shows I otherwise might not see.

Some of the shows,

Like “Hadestown,”

Surprise me and make it onto my list of favorites.

Others of the shows,

Like “Oklahoma,”

Disappoint me and make it onto my list of never to see again.

Most of the shows, though,

Like “Six,”

Just entertain or challenge me and make it onto “Shows Seen” spreadsheet.

Most shows are shows that I’m glad that I saw

But that I wouldn’t necessarily seek out to see again.

(Although I’ll go to almost any show if someone asks.)

 

The latest of these shows was “A Beautiful Noise: The Neil Diamond Musical.”

While it was a fun-ish show with lots of recognizable music—

I had no idea how many Neil Diamond songs I knew—

And while I appreciated the normalization of therapy that it presented—

Neil Diamond was a very anxious, somewhat depressed man—

Something about it didn’t click with me…

 

Having season tickets means seeing some of the same people at each show.

But there are also a lot of different people at the shows—

And the demographic of the people changes with each show.

This demographic was Neil Diamond lovers.

And I must say that I am thankful they are not the demographic for most shows…

Because there was a woman sitting behind me

Who talked and sang through the entire performance.

 

At one point, the woman got mad at the person beside me for adjusting herself in her seat.

She said, “I can’t see. The f#*%ing head in front of me.”

At another point, in a particularly poignant moment in the show,

She kept saying, “No! Cancel! No! Don’t go!”

As if her comments were going to change the course of history.

She sang along during the upbeat songs and

She sang along during the slow songs.

One time she sang right through a dramatic fermata.

I about went crazy!

I couldn’t even enjoy the show because

The woman behind me was watching it as if she were at home watching TV.

 

Now, I’ll admit:

Sometimes I make brief comments during shows,

Though I try to whisper them or speak them quietly during the applause,

And sometimes I accidentally sing a note or two of a song as well.

But I hope I don’t make the show miserable for those around me.

Because most live theater is not an active spectator sport

Rather a passive spectator event.

 

What about you?

Have you ever had a bad show experience?

Do you have shows that you hate?

Do you have shows that you love?

Do you have shows to which you are indifferent?

Let’s go for movies, too.

 

And…

Go!

 

I think some fun conversation might be good for us right now.

 

PS. Les Miserables, Ragtime, Rent, Wicked, Annie, Waitress and The Color Purple are on the list that I must always see. And Jekyll and Hyde, The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical, Little Women, Honk!, and Next To Normal are shows that I especially wouldn’t mind paying money to see again. Everything else, except for Oklahoma so far, is on the “I would see it again if someone gave me tickets” list.

It's God

 

One of the things that Heidi the Librarian and I like to do in Charleston is a Secret Food Tour. We meet our group and guide at a designated location and then visit five lesser-known eateries around the town.

 

In 2022, our guide was a guy who had quite a few ear piercings.  

I don’t remember his name, but I remember talking with him about his piercings and trying to decide which piercing I should get next.

I decided on my second lobe piercing.

 

In 2023, our guide was a girl who had just moved South.

She was a musical theatre person, and she had come to the area for a show.

Before that, she was Shug in the Color Purple in Boston.

I don’t remember her name, but I remember talking with her about The Color Purple and tearing up together as we discussed the deep emotion of the show.

I told her how I’d been taken aback when the actress playing Shug in the 2023 NC Theatre version of the show had to stop singing because she was crying during the finale and the curtain call.

I’d never seen an actor or actress that overwhelmed with genuine emotion,

But it moved me and I told my guide that much.

She understood.

She, herself, had been moved by that same emotion.

It’s the same emotion that I felt watching the movie version of The Color Purple.

It’s hope.

And forgiveness.

And redemption.

And love.

 

It’s God.

 

I think sometimes we want God to move in big ways—

Ways that are obvious and cannot be denied.

 

But I think most times, God moves in small, quiet ways—

Ways that are commonplace and can be reduced to good luck or coincidence if we let them.

 

In the Old Testament, God didn’t speak to Elijah in the storms,

Rather God spoke to Elijah in a whisper.

 

In the New Testament, God didn’t come to earth with fanfare,

Rather God came as a helpless baby.

 

Our food tours in Charleston were just passing tours.

I will never see those guides again.

Yet I will remember them,

Especially the 2023 guide,

Because of the ways they shed light into my life.

 

Dear God: May we see you in the people around us and may we be you to all whom we meet—whether be in passing or whether it be for a lifetime. May we use our voices to whisper love and may we use our resources as hope. Help us to see you in the small things—to rejoice in the goodness that you are, even when life is hard and circumstances far from easy. Open our eyes that we may see and connect our tears as they fall. Amen.