Curtain

Once upon a time I played the role of the stage manager in a production of Our Town. Now I’m doing it in real life. Previously, my wife occupied the role. But she’s gone. Now, it’s just me and a cacophony of friends and acquaintances banging in my head every morning. What to do? Who to call? What does everyone expect? It’s a really intense, on the job training period. I wish I had asked more questions when she was alive; it’s the same with cooking, how’d she do it?

It’s probably impossible to boil it down to a simple solution. Humans are complex. Emotions are complex. Their drivers are complex. There’s no real script. We bang around and do our best and hope we bang into other people doing their best and that everyone understands mistakes will be made. Maybe that’s the key? Forgiveness. Or, just not worrying about it. Do your best. Although, you know what they say about good intentions and the road to hell, it’s paved with them.

Still, I suspect I should simply go forth with good intentions and continue doing what I’ve done all my life as we moved from one location to the next. Use the opportunity to re-invent myself and learn from my mistakes. Not something normally afforded to people who live in one place all their lives; their past lies heavy on their shoulders. My pasts are like old suits hanging in my closest that I never wear and never will. So, excuse me while I dress, because the curtain is about to go up on today’s play.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale