Day 1842: Another opening, another close

It was a wild and joyous week that ended on a sad note.  The show sold out both Friday and Saturday nights and the kids were jubilant.  For five of them, including four leads, their performances were greatly enhanced by a course of antibiotics to deal with the strep throat that made the rounds.  Most likely it was due to exhaustion and perhaps too much kissing.  Last night when we closed, tears flowed freely, especially among the seniors, and I held a stage crew gal while she sobbed that it was over.  For the adults, there was no sentimentality.  We worked like maniacs till midnight taking in costumes, sorting, hanging, organizing and filling bags of laundry.  Then at 10:00 am this morning, seven of us tackled the sets and by noon, we had dismantled half of the main unit.

In green room before the last show, the seniors often share their thoughts and I was especially moved by several of the young men who talked about the musical family.  Two had moved to Fredonia in middle school and found a place for themselves within the school in musical.  Our lead told a different story.  He started by apologizing to everyone for the person he was up through sophomore year.  As a junior, his mom made him get up off the couch and try out for a role in Aida.  He got a bit part in the chorus with no lines.  This year, she pushed him to try out for a major part and he landed the lead.  His life has changed completely.

We planned to take a long walk, relax and then go to dinner with friends, but of course we had to get ready for Terry to come tomorrow and finish the bedroom floor.  I made about twenty trips upstairs with all of my clothes and junk from the closet.  We've emptied the dressers and moved most of the furniture.  He'll have to help us with the larger items.

But mixed in with all of this ordinary stuff, we hunted for Molly.  She went outside to nap in the sunshine about 1:00, just as she does most days, but she never came back.  We have searched the woods, creek, garage, under the decks, in the gardens, and the entire house multiple times. She just vanished.  If she had a seizure and died, we'd find her body.  And I can't imagine she would venture through the mushy backyard or across the street.  Could a predator or a person have taken her?  Could she have gone off to die somewhere?  I've checked all her favorite spots and there's no sign of her. Weeks ago, when she was ill and weak, I was prepared for her to pass away.  But not this.  Twenty years together and then suddenly, she's gone.  I'm still holding on to hope, but tomorrow, we'll have to call our sons and let them know.

The view at 10 am

And at noon