The musical The Music Man isn’t one that someone would look at the story and character arc and see a theme of redemption. It’s a love story and a story of character growth and a few other things; but not really redemption.
And yet, here we are.
About 2 weeks shy of four years ago our cast and crew of the Music Man found out the horrible news that because of a looming shutdown over a virus we knew so little about, that our show was getting cancelled. We all felt a lot of emotions not knowing what was next and what we would end up dealing with and going through.
Now, four years later about a dozen of us have had the opportunity to be a part of bringing this story to life on the stage.
And last Friday we got to finally set foot in River City, Iowa.
Before the curtain came up it truly hit me how different I am from 4 years ago. What I’ve gone through, how I’ve grown as a person in so many different elements of life. What I’ve lost, what I’ve gained and who I’ve become.
But, I also realized, though, there are a dozen or so of us who are getting to “finally” perform this show, there are a cast, crew and orchestra who get to pick up a little of our redemption.
Because we all are different then we were in March 2020.
There are so many stories I don’t know about, so many humans who are a part of getting this to the stage who had to overcome things, who lost people, who found people, who changed because of this season of life that we all collectively walked through.
Last Friday, we got to be a part of this thing, this story, that never got to be.
We get to stand in the gap for those that couldn’t be a part of it this time around, we get to finish the story that was started four years ago.
We got something back that was taken.
I’ve been having so much fun in River City. I’ve gotten to be on stage with friends I’ve never been in stage with, I’ve met new friends, I finally got to wear an obnoxious hat and I’ve gotten to see incredibly talented humans finally get to step on stage as characters they left behind four years ago.
I’m sad that my parents aren’t able to be in the audience, that I can’t send my mom all of the amazing costumes I’m wearing, that I didn’t get to tell her all the insanity of tech week or how much fun it is tap dance again.
But, I’m thankful for the ability to put a period on the end of this Music Man sentence.
I don’t what you’ve lost in the last four years; if it’s time or people or relationships or pieces of yourself. I don’t know if you’ve had the ability to sift through the muck and find those pieces again.
But I do know that redemption comes in some of the most unknowing places; including a city on a stage full of stubborn Iowans.
With love,
Meg