I taught (and directed) for many, many, MANY years; years during which, through the doors of my classes and rehearsals came many of the people who now, years later, are some of my dearest friends. I wouldn’t be me (or truthful) if I didn’t say that those doors also saw the entrances (and exits, alas) of some people to whom I opened my heart and soul and who took, borrowed, stole, and broke pieces of that heart and soul – but that’s the risk you take when you love, and that isn’t what this is about.
This is about the ones with whom the bond is still healthy and thriving; not about the ones where the bond is now a source of – well, not, as I said, the point – because even where there is pain, there will always be a bond, and though we may not reach across it with words, forgiveness, or active loving, the bond remains – and in some cases, is stronger than even those that are “thriving” (and perhaps that’s why we cannot reach across it – but that is another blog for many years from now, or, never). But today, I celebrate those children of mine, those friends of mine, who, years later, live vital, active lives about which they write and through that writing, share with me.
This is about Cody, who writes as CSWeinberg at OPEN LETTERS; and tonight wrote about all his “older” friends. Damn. I hate being reminded. And yet, though we may be chronologically older than Cody, he has the oldest of souls. Look in his eyes and see generations of wisdom. Sit with him and feel centuries of knowing peacefulness. And let me tell you, it is hard in this adolescent world of ours to be such an old soul. I love that he writes about being a twenty-something physical man wearing the soul of an ancient prophet. Read his blog. Follow him. But be warned, he is already in love with a woman and he is as loyal and faithful as he is ancient of soul and loving.
And, my Kyle, whose blog, 824Kyle, just went up today. From the moment he walked into my acting class, a beautiful, young boy-man, it was clear that he was just marking time in childhood until he could get to the Algonquin/Broadway/Manhattan sophisticated metropolis where he was born to be. He’s writing about it now. Follow him.
And my Jackie. Dear, sweet Jackie. She was a little girl who walked into an “Annie” audition (I know, I know) and stole my heart and has kept it safe, ever since. Now she is a mom. And still singing and dancing. And still holding my heart with delicacy and grace and light, all of which she shares with all those lucky enough to cross her path. That could be you, follow her at THIS IS NOT A PARENTING BLOG.
And those are just the three of my children with whom I talked today. I am blessed with many, many more about whom I will write periodically. So, though there have been some who have broken my heart in ways I could never have imagined and which still make me ache almost daily, well, perhaps that is the cost of having found special ones like these three who keep me young, these three (and the others) who have grown into grown-up friends, who stayed even when (especially when) there was nothing left of me to take, who now enrich my life in ways I could never have imagined when first we met. Follow them all. Love them all. I do.