You Have to Have Rain to Get a Rainbow

I was tagged by my daughter in a post yesterday. It was about "Rainbow Babies." I had never heard the term. A Rainbow Baby is the baby that is born after the mother has already had a miscarriage. My oldest daughter is a Rainbow Baby. When I first got married, all the way back in 1982, I didn't think I even wanted children. I was very young. I had just turned 19 the week before my wedding, but that wasn't the reason. I was never one of those teens who liked to babysit. I didn't want to work the nursery at church. I was never the one that wanted to hold the newborns of cousins or aunts. Truth be told, I'm still not big on that. I didn't have anything against babies. I wasn't a baby hater. I just didn't find it something I needed to be around. When I had been married about 8 years I started to feel a little differently. Weirdly it was because of a soap opera I was watching called Guiding Light. One of the characters was pregnant, and as I followed her journey, I began to have yearnings of my own. I started to really want to have a baby. My husband had wanted children from about marriage year 3, so he was ready to start. It took me about 6 months to conceive, and in June of 1991 I was in the middle of doing a show and found out I was pregnant. I was over the moon. I bought What to Expect When You're Expecting, the BIBLE for expectant parents, and wrapped it up to give to my husband to tell him we were expecting. We told everyone right away. I told my whole cast, and every person was so excited. We started to make plans, even if only in our minds, and I bought a Baby Book and a first year calendar and started to fill it out with early details of this little one's life. I was a little queasy in the first month but not too bad, tired but not too tired. That could have had something to do with my schedule. Work 9-6, then go straight to the theater to do a show 4 nights a week and 2 shows on most Saturdays, but everything seemed to be going fine. It had been a long Sunday in September, at the end of an already full week with work and shows, we had also had a Sunday Matinee. I felt fine, but I had started to bleed, pretty heavily, and I called the doctor's exchange. My OB was not on call. His partner called me back. I explained what was going on, and he asked me if my OB had heard the heartbeat yet. I said no, and I will never forget his response. "Oh, well, just come in in the morning," he said in a very dismissive tone, as if to say, well, there's nothing we can do. No rush. the baby's already gone. Note here to ANYONE in the medical field who is talking to a pregnant woman who is scared about something going on with her unborn child: No matter what you think is going on, DO NOT DISMISS HER LIKE HER BABY IS ALREADY DEAD! I barely got any sleep that night. I was going in first thing in the morning to my OB to see what was going on. I continued to bleed. My husband had just started a new job and felt he couldn't miss work, so my sweet Daddy, God rest his soul,  took me to the doctor so I wouldn't have to go alone. They did an ultrasound, and I kept asking the poor technician questions. Questions she, of course, could not answer. She was wonderful and sweet. She kept telling me the doctor needed to interpret them and would tell me all about it. It was cold on the examining table. Finally the Ultrasound was done, and I went upstairs to see my doctor. My Daddy waited in the waiting room with all of the pregnant ladies. I'm pretty sure he was the only man in there. I waited, by myself, in the doctor's office for what seemed like an eternity. He walked in with a file and sat across from me behind his desk. Anyone that walked in would have thought it was a job interview. Side note: I am very good at holding it together, especially if I am not with someone close to me. The first words out of his mouth as he sat down were, "I wish I had better news." I didn't really hear much after that, but I kept my gaze directly on him appearing to listen intently for this very medical terminology to tell me that I wasn't pregnant anymore. I was at 12 weeks when all this happened. The baby had stopped growing at 9 weeks. It's called a "blighted ovum." It wasn't anything I had done. Sometimes it just happens. It just happens, but why to me? We scheduled a D&C for Thursday. I left the office, passing my sweet Daddy in the waiting room and half mumbling we had to go. He could barely keep up with me as I walked to the elevators asking what was wrong as he hurried after me. This was it. I was away from people I didn't know, and I lost it as I told him sobbing, "I'm not pregnant anymore!" That was Sept. 10th, 1991. Many emotions would run through me the days and weeks ahead. Lots of anger at God, myself, just life. Deep sadness, grief really. I think miscarriage and how it affects someone is a little better understood these days. Back then, no one knew what to say. Someone very close to me actually called it a "female problem." People didn't treat it like a death back then, and yes, it isn't like losing a living, breathing child, but it is the death of a dream and a hope for a life. I did get pregnant again, almost as soon as the doctor said we could start trying, but this pregnancy was different. I didn't let myself get as excited as I did the first time. I, myself, never bought anything for my baby until she was born. As silly as it sounds, I was afraid to jinx myself. A year and 2 weeks after I lost my first baby, my Rainbow Baby was born. She was healthy and such a good baby. They are called Rainbow Babies because a rainbow signifies hope after a storm. What a beautiful sentiment. If I had not lost my first child, I may not have had her, and I certainly would not have had my second child as both of my pregnancies were filled with health issues. I would have stopped at 2 or maybe the first. I always say that everything happens for a reason. We may not see how the puzzle piece fits at the time, but it is part of a beautiful masterpiece. I am so glad my "Rainbow" is part of the mix!

When Love Walked In

About this time 21 years ago I was basking in the afterglow of a wonderful exciting experience. It all began when I was doing a show at Dogwood Dell called City of Angels. I met a talented actress named Katie McCall, and we became fast friends. She told me that she was involved in an independent filming project. A friend of hers was shooting his first feature film, and he was looking for someone to play her quirky mother, was I interested? Of course I was! One Saturday she and I drove up to Charlottesville to read through the screenplay. I was in. I was so excited! I had never done any camera work, let alone a film. Before it was all said and done we went through several cast changes before our first day of shooting. Because of conflicts Katie was not able to play my daughter, but a cast was assembled, and in a mild week in the spring of 1998 I traveled up Route 64 to a suburb of Charlottesville to start shooting. If you don't know anything about making a film, it's very expensive! As I said, this was an independent film. The filmmakers were spending all of their own money to make the film. No big studio budget to spend. Everyone involved was working for free, including me. It was a real family operation. The producer was also starring in the film. He and his brother were co-directing. His 3 year old daughter was playing his daughter, and he and his wife put me up in their home for the week of shooting. His Mom and Dad and wife were Kraft services and provided all the cast and crew's meals. They didn't really know me at all, but they welcomed me and made me feel like one of the family too. I learned so much in that week! And they were incredibly patient with this Stage actress. I'm pretty sure I deafened the sound guy with my projection and my over the top style kept moving out of the shot, but by the end of the week I learned to be subtle and act for the camera. We finished the week, and knew we would all be back in July to wrap it up. The week in July actually ended up being a lifesaving distraction for me as my marriage of 15+ years had just ended weeks before. We wrapped on a humid July night. I would not even see the film until 10 years later. Remember, I said it was independent. A whirlwind of activity surrounded my 10 year reunion with the film. It had been accepted to the Bare Bones International Independent Film Festival, and it was nominated for several awards including a nod for me as Best Actress. I flew out to Muskogee,OK to screen the film and attend the awards with the brothers. I ended up winning. It was a dream realized for this actress. I got to experience all of this because of one man, Kent Williamson. I found out quite by accident last night through Facebook that Kent was tragically killed in a car accident last Friday along with 3 of his family members. A drunk driver ran a stop sign, and Kent and his family all died at the scene. He reached so many with his films. The film I was lucky enough to be in was called When Love Walks In. Ironically, the film deals with a man, Kent, who loses his wife to a car accident, and it follows his journey through grief as he tries to raise his 3 year old daughter alone. I have been told that grief counselors use the film to illustrate all the stages of grief to their clients. My heart aches for this family whose amazing love and faith will sustain them through this terrible, terrible tragedy. Their love walked into my life at just the time I needed it, and I will never forget that experience for the rest of my days. Rest in Peace, Kent Williamson. You have left a legacy for generations to come. You are not truly gone as you will live on in your art and in the hearts of everyone you touched.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Me with the lovely Lynn West

It was a hot July night, and sweaty and covered in dust I walked into the building. My hair was falling down around my face, and I can still remember what I was wearing, a navy sleeveless 1 piece culotte outfit that zipped up the front with a red, swiss-dotted applique of a mushroom on the leg. I had been to the circus that day at the Fairgrounds, now known as the Richmond International Raceway. The circus visit was not the special thing that was happening on July 25, 1974. The building I entered was Swift Creek Mill Playhouse, and it was opening night of my very first professional show, The Music Man. I don't remember much else about that night except that I had missed the memo on dressing up for opening night. In those days everyone "dressed" to go to the theater, but there I was in my dirty circus soiled clothes at the opening night party. I didn't think much of it then, but I guess it left an impression if I still recall it 45 years later. The opening night was obviously not that important to me. Being in the show was! You could say this is when I began this journey of being an actress, but it started way before age 10. The earliest recollection I have of being in front of an audience would be age 3. My parents took me and my sister to some mountain resort, and we were waiting by the hostess stand for a table. There was a man playing guitar, the restaurant's live music for the evening, and he asked, "Does anyone know how to hula dance?" I walked right through the crowd and up on stage to hula. My sister, 5 at the time, was mortified. I've never had a problem being in front of people. I was always "acting up" for my parents, especially my daddy. I was lip-syncing way before it was a national pastime! I used to put on the 45 of Vicki Lawrence's  The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia and play it at 78 speed and mouth the words for my dad, and he would laugh and laugh. Translation for those who have no idea what I am talking about: A 45 is a small, vinyl record that contains a single song. If you play it on a turntable at 78 it revolves very quickly, and it makes the singer sound like they are on permanent helium. The Music Man, however was my first "professional" show. I was paid to perform. I got paid $5.00 per show, and we did 4 shows a week. $20.00 a week was big doings for a 10 year old, but I didn't care about that. I loved doing the show! I haven't really stopped acting since then. It hasn't always been a paid gig, but I have loved every minute of it! I met my ex-husband doing a show. If it were not for the theatre, I would not have my 2 amazing daughters. The theatre has blessed me in so many ways! I am 55 now, closer to 56, and roles are not as readily available for my age. Recently I told my daughter, " I'm past wanting anything. I'm never going to make my living as an actress, and I'm okay with that." God had something different in mind. Earlier this year I found out that I get to reprise my role of "Louise" in Always, Patsy Cline at VaRep, and just recently I was cast in what I think will be one of the most challenging roles of my career with Richmond Triangle Players. This old girl's not done yet! With any luck, I never will be.

Norman Would Be Proud

Tonight I gathered with a group I like to call a second family at the November Theater. You couldn't really call it a party, and it wasn't for a show, although the audience was filled with show people. The group was the Richmond Theatre Community, and we gathered to say goodbye and remember and honor one of our own, Andy Boothby. Andy left us way to soon this past Tuesday. He and I were born the same year only 8 months apart. He was older. He wouldn't want me to share that, but he was. When I heard the news, I couldn't believe it. Obviously I was not the only one shocked as several friends tonight shared the same sentiment. You kind of just thought he would always be around. His was a light you couldn't imagine going out, but it did, and it rocked all of our worlds. As I often do, when I am moved, I take to blogging. When I heard about Andy, I couldn't blog because I was in tech week for a show. Andy would totally understand that, and it wouldn't bother him in the least. He was an actor, and a damn good one! The first time I saw Andy on stage was when he played Tito in Lend Me a Tenor at Swift Creek Mill. He was wonderful, and I remember thinking, "Who is this new guy?" The first show I did with him was an adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera also at Swift Creek. This was the first time I heard the phrase,"Norman, I believe we shall give them a good one tonight!" We didn't appear on stage together again until we did A Christmas Carol at Theatre IV. He was playing Ghost of Christmas Present, a fitting role for Andy as he consumed life and all its joys. Those were the only 2 shows Andy and I did together, but every time I would see him I could always count on a hug and a kiss. I saw Andy in several shows, but my favorite performance was his role as the boyfriend in Hanover Tavern's On Golden Pond . It was such a departure from Andy's real life persona. He played him with nervousness, and vulnerability perfectly. He was superb! The last time I saw Andy was about 9 months ago. He did me a favor and spent a day with a bunch of high school kids judging a forensics competition. We shared lunch and conversation and of course a hug and a kiss. I didn't know it would be the last one I would receive. Maybe I would have held on a little longer. If you ever did a show with Andy, at places you would hear him bellow, "Norman, I believe we shall give them a good one tonight!" Andy, you did give them a good one on stage and off and Norman would have been proud!

Children Will Listen

In 1990 I was brought in as a last minute replacement as Jack's Mom in Into the Woods at Swift Creek Mill Playhouse. The actress playing her had to leave the cast, and Tom Width called me to ask me to come audition. I got the part. It was daunting to say the least as I was coming into the rehearsal process late, and if you know anything about Sondheim, that is no easy task. The cast welcomed me, and it was my entrance back into professional theatre after a very long hiatus. That show changed me in many ways, but I was 22, and I don't know if I truly appreciated the show's themes as I do now at 55. Through the last 33 years there have been many situations that have arisen that I have thought of the wisdom of Stephen Sondheim's lyrics, especially from Into the Woods. The running theme is "be careful what you wish for," but so many other things come up as he tells the story. Each thing we do affects someone else, although we may not see it at the time. Often times we make selfish choices that end up leaving someone else's life in ruins. The beautiful Julie Fulcher-Davis played the Witch in our production. Julie is a passionate actress and an even more passionate person. In the show her character sings a song called Children Will Listen. SPOILER ALERT: She sings the song while grieving the loss of her only child. The really sad part is that ultimately her daughter's death happened as a result of  the wheels she set in motion. To hear Julie sing it would make your heart break. The song begins:
              "Careful the things you say, children will listen.
              Careful the things you do, children will see and learn.."
I have pretty much kept this blog out of the hard political arena, but tomorrow is an extremely important day in the life of our country, and truthfully, our lives. I have watched over the past 2 years with disgust, fear, and shock at the horrible things that have become commonplace in our society. I have watched as hate has been encouraged and allowed to thrive, even stoked. I have watched awful things happen that I never thought I would see in my own country, let alone the fact that my government was on the side of the bad guys. I kept thinking, there's no way this can go on. There's no way that people will keep turning a blind eye, but here we are 2 years later, and I mourn the country I used to know. I never really thought about it except from my point of view, but then I read a post that a friend of mine wrote on Facebook about "what we will tell our children" about these times. A small excerpt:
          I take my responsibility as a role model seriously, and I believe that honesty and transparency, and speaking to children as you would a peer are keys to their development. Children will learn only as much as we teach them, and when it comes to teaching them Right versus Wrong, that should be pretty easy, right?

So what do you tell your children about our President?

Is it right to lie? Is it right to sexually assault? Is it right to stoke fear?

The President repeatedly calls the press Fake News and the Enemy of the People. He has been caught on tape saying that if you’re a celebrity, it’s okay to kiss women and much worse without their consent. He has repeatedly rallied to Lock Up people who have committed no crimes other than being his political opponent, all while claiming that it is the other side who demonstrates “mob” like behavior. And today, he retweeted the most racially charged national political ad in a generation.

To me, it is pretty clear: The President’s behavior is wrong. And if you vote for him OR you vote for politicians who support him, you support the things he supports.

You vote in support of lying. You vote in support of believing the accused over the accuser. You vote in support of racist acts. Can we not agree that these things are Wrong?

Tomorrow is not about party. Tomorrow is about the side of right and the side of wrong. I want to be on the side of right, and I want to be able to look my grandchildren that I may have one day in their sweet faces and be proud of what I stood for. Don't you? I fear if we continue to accept this unacceptable behavior, we will be so far down a path we will never be able to return to what's right and decent. Search your heart tomorrow and vote. You know what's right! Let the world know!

God, I Hope She Gets It!

It has been quite some time since I posted, over 2 months, almost 3. So much has happened in my little life, but today I am writing a post for someone. Tomorrow, my oldest daughter turns 26. This birthday is different. She is not here, and probably won't be for many birthdays to come. A little over a month ago she moved to New York City to follow her dream of being an actress. It came as no surprise when she told me she wanted to move to the big city. In fact I was a little surprised she waited as long as she did, but opportunity presented itself, and she jumped on it. On August 11th, at 6AM, she got into her rented car, packed to the brim and started on her journey, not just to another city, but another life. Being an actor is hard! It takes sacrifice and perseverance, and the willingness to be told, "No," over and over again, and bounce right back. I know because I wanted to be an actor. Well, I am an actor, but I wanted that to be my job. I let other things get in the way, not that I have any regrets, mind you. I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I made choices, and I am happy with them. She has made one choice: TO BE AN ACTOR, first and foremost. The first serious step she took was moving to NYC, a step that would terrify me, but she is up there seeing theatre and hustling to auditions and picking up jobs and navigating the subway like a pro - this alone would do me in - and she's not only doing it she's loving it! I never did it. I played it safe, and I have to say I'm a little envious, a tiny bit surprised but most of all in awe of her determination and basic guts to be up there doing what she's doing every day. I told her a long time ago that she had to decide if she wanted to be famous or make her living as an actor because they were two different things. Sometimes they're both, but rarely. My wish for her on this birthday is that she continue to have the drive to go at it day after day, that she stay comfortable, but not too comfortable,  that she continue to grow as an actress and keep working and studying and learning by experience or class, and, most of all that she be happy wherever she is and whatever she chooses. Happy Birthday, little girl! Love, Mommy!

Make America What Again?

Not that long ago I would have been spending my July 3rd evening combing through my closet looking for something red, white and blue to wear tomorrow. Celebrate the 4th! Show your colors! I was the first person to whip out a tissue frantically dabbing my eyes as I heard America, the Beautiful or The National Anthem. I am a teacher, and I wore black and white to school today. In previous years I would have been decked out practically looking like a tacky ad for Patriotism, but, sadly not today. Don't get me wrong. I know that even with all of its faults I still could be living in far worse places, but today I am mad!!! I am mad at what the current administration has turned my country into. I am mad that my precious flag, once a symbol of freedom and honor, has been turned into a banner of hate and exclusion. Every day I keep thinking I am going to find out that none of this is real. This can't be happening here. this is America! But it is! And the sad thing is a huge amount of the population is cheering on the hate, supporting the exclusion, and laughing at the suffering inflicted on children by US! I don't want to be associated with that America. I am not proud! I am dabbing at my eyes, but because my country has turned into the mad, pitch fork wielding mob, and I am at a loss as to how to stop it. America has become the rabid dog, foaming at the mouth with hate, and though you once loved the loyal and true companion, the only way to save it is to destroy it. Is that what we've come to? I pray not!