Now, I know, I KNOW I'm only an offstage cover, but my show had its first preview last night.
And traditionally, before the first performance, I'd get a phone call from the Nana wishing me luck or break a leg (but not really). Or the post show review tell-alll would happen.
Neither.
It's the little things that just fucking rip your heart out and stretch it to the point of irretrievability.
But then I emailed my ob/gyn (you know...the singing one who loved PRISCILLA) and I felt a wee bit better.
It's the little things...
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I came home two nights ago thinking about something and had the urge to call my Mom and tell her about it. That would have been fine in 1999. But it is 12 years later. Sometimes I smile, happy that I still have those urges and memories as it is a sign that she's still a part of my life. And sometimes I well up, sad that I can't call and hear her voice. Sigh.
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