crossing the finish line

Daddy’s little girl

One of the things that I have always loved about my life is how close I was/am to both my mom and my dad.  It’s one of the perks of being an only child.  In my personal opinion, being an only child rocks!!  

Tonight my dad attended a performance of The Hair Chronicles.  To say that I have been anxious and nervous all day would be a complete understatement.  It was so important to me that he see the show and enjoy and, most importantly, feel proud of me.  I know that several people would tell me that he is already proud of me, but I worry.  I am always worried about making my dad proud.  I have always wanted nothing more than to make both of my parents proud of me.  My greatest goal was for my parents to be proud at the person that I became.  Silly, but true. 

The universe tested me today.  As we drove into Chinatown for the show, we hit some horrible traffic.  Driving in DC traffic does not bring out my best side, and it is an extreme challenge with my dad in the car.  No cussing, very little use of the horn, and limited weaving through traffic.  After surviving the 4 miles journey which took about an hour, we made it.  Thankfully I had little time to freak out about the little details of the performance.  Instead I made sure that my dad had his ticket, button and a seat.

I sat on the stairs for the first 30 minutes of the show.  The idea of being in the same room as my dad as he watched my “baby” was too much for me.  Would the pictures of my mom in the slideshow upset him? Would he laugh at the right spots? Would the climax monologue bring a tear to his eye?  I couldn’t handle watching his reaction; so I hid.  

When the show was over, the two other playwrights and myself went on stage like we have for the other performances.  I didn’t dare make eye contact with my dad.  After a rather long Q&A, I got off stage to face my dad’s reaction. 

He embraced me in a huge hug and told me he was proud of me.  Perfection. 

At dinner, he mentioned specific things that he enjoyed.  He asked questions about the process and the future of the play.  All of that didn’t matter to me.  He said the words that I was dying to hear.  It was a perfect evening. 

 

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This entry was posted on 18/07/2012 by in Life and tagged , , .

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