Saturday, September 22, 2012
Last Day of Summer . . . The Beginning of a New Year
Last Sunset of Summer. Photo by K. Iuppa
Last Saturday I celebrated a birthday. Not an ordinary birthday, but one that has made me quite introspective. This will be a year of journey. In Bon Voyage, my sister Andrea sent me a gorgeous bouquet of Autumn orchids. Exquisite. And, my son Nick sent me flowers too-- a heavenly arrangement of white roses, lilies, golden rod . . Really lovely, while, yellow and purple/pink and still beautiful.
I love flowers. I plan on drawing (watercolors) of these arrangements this weekend to keep them always.
This past week, CAST came to St. John Fisher and gave a remarkable performance of Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra. Strong acting all around, which was heightened by the vision of their director Nikki Moss. Bold elements of choreography and soundtracks, use of lighting,and an elegant set design captured
the play's drama. The audience was spellbound. Such talent. Such a pleasure having them on campus.
Yesterday, as the CAST company was getting ready to leave campus, Martha, a lovely young woman with brown curls and kind eyes, in an unfettered way, revealed that she has lost her Mother's ring. I heard mother's ring in capital letters: LOST MY MOTHER'S RING. What?--When did you realize it was gone? And she proceeded to unravel her whereabouts from the striking of the show to their return to the Inn where they were staying. In this, several others overheard the conversation and, in an equally unfettered way, gave reports on where they last saw her mother's ring, which was in the dressing room. So I checked the room, but it was locked. I called security to come over, which he did pronto. During this brief wait, it's revealed that she had lost it earlier, on a beach, and one her cohorts had found it. Hey, look, did anyone lose a ring? So this is the second time she has lost her mother's ring. They're still unfettered by this, which made me remain calm. The security officer arrived and the three of us walked to the dressing room. The room was tidy. We scanned all the tabletops. We had a bit more conversation about the ring, still looking around in the room's natural light. We didn't turn on a light. The floor's a milk chocolate linoleum. I could feel Martha's heart sinking. In the pause of giving up, I thought, ring manifest. Then I looked down and sure enough there's the ring on the floor. I picked it up. A gold ring with a heart in its band. Her mother's ring. Found. I handed it to her. She was so elated, so was the security officer, who I think felt her heart sink too. All of us relieved. Still in my head: HER MOTHER'S RING. Me,acting on her mother's behalf, asked the million dollar question: Does that ring fit your finger, Martha? And we had a bit more conversation. Martha happily regarding her ring. Watching her, I thought, it's important not to lose heart, not to lose your mother's ring. O, Martha, my dear . . . Rest of the day, I hummed the Beatles' tune. Thought about their safe passage-- three over-stuffed vans making their way down the highway to Boston. I hope they look at the landscape, notice some leaves changing colors on their way. Maybe, some of them did, but most, I think, ate their boxed lunch and settled in for a nap. Over the course of the time I spent with them, I asked them to be sure to do certain things. Some of which they did do and some of which they didn't do.
Have faith, Omi said, with his reassuring smile. Such good advice.