I don't know about you, but I tend to have that one table I always sit at when I'm hanging out at coffee shops. The last conversation I had with my mom was while sitting at one of those tables. I was killing time at the Starbucks at Piper's Alley. I had some time before a show at Second City Training Center. I was hanging out, writing in a journal I had just bought, and I called my mom to check in.
She was still in the hospital. They were chasing a myriad of complications she had after her stem cell transplant. I had visited her the previous week after she had gone into respiratory distress in the hospital. She was out of the ICU and on various painkillers and such while they were chasing a myriad of complications. I said my I love you and played my show.
The last time I talked to my mom was in the middle of me living the dream. I actually really love this. I love this because her support of my dream took it's own journey. In high school I would say I wanted to major in theatre and mom would make various comments that would range from "well you're good at math and science, take a look at engineering" to " theatre is a nice hobby but you'll need a day job" to "well at least go to a real school (one that has a math program) so you have options." Then my senior year she want thru her first round of treatment for multiple myeloma. I remember her saying as I was going off to college to major in theatre "life's too short not to follow your dreams. Besides, you can't outsource live theatre to India."
As I went thru college and started building my connections in Chicago, my mom would say how she was proud of me and how she had faith in my ability to make it in my career because i was good at networking. She was so supportive and proud of me and was my cheerleader. She would still make comments about how she didn't know how both her kids ended up in the arts. I think that's pretty hilarious as she's the one who was constantly creating quilts and using her creative problem solving skills wherever she went but life's funny like that.
I've found myself killing time at that Starbucks a lot recently getting my pre-show caffeine and killing time. At first I was afraid to sit at the side of the Starbucks. Like that table had some sort of power. I sat on the opposite side of the Starbucks like "ha that'll show you demon table." But a few weeks ago I sat there and I thought. Hey this is actually kind of cool.
When I sit there I think about how proud my mom was of my success. I think about all the trips we took to Chicago when I was in high school when we'd go see shows and I'd think "i'm going to move here someday." At one point we sat there together and killed time before a show (not that specific table I think but maybe. It was awhile ago for story's sake let's say THAT TABLE).
I've been so into the groove of living the dream that I sometimes forget that I'm LIVING THE DREAM. I've come so far and have so much that I want to do. In all of my reflecting I am learning that yes life is short not to follow my dreams.
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