I had the honor and joy of speaking at Raleigh’s inaugural Listen To Your Mother show a couple days ago. There were 15 of us sharing our stories of motherhood on a stage with just a microphone and a music stand. The auditorium was full (sold out crowd!). Tears and laughter peppered the night, and just like my predecessors promised, the night wrapped up with loads of “I know exactly what you mean.” and “I can totally relate.” and “I so get what you were saying.” The “me too” moments abound if we just shed our nervous cloaks to share our own stories. Tales of motherhood are plentiful, and there’s always at least one we can relate to. I’m sort of going through withdrawal right now. I miss my time with my cast mates and miss the anticipation of participating in something so epic. Truly, it was epic. I’m unleashing hyperbole here for good reason.
I started my day yesterday worried I wouldn’t even make the show.
I spent the morning and afternoon in the ER after a freak turn of events that resulted from literally turning the wrong way in bed. My back snapped, I writhed in pain, and I found myself struggling to breathe and feeling faint. I was crying in pain and was a hair short of facing a full on panic attack. After much juggling and the help of dear friends in the wee hours, Mac Daddy took me to the ER. We had one friend pick up Deal and get him ready for school. Bird was sick so another friend hopped in her car and drove straight to us to sit with him while he was hacking and feverish. Imagine if we didn’t have such souls to call upon; we would have dragged two sleepy kids (one sick!) to the hospital. These are the times I hate people who have family to rely on. Mac Daddy and I have not stopped talking about how grateful we are for our friends. There’s a certain comfort in knowing that our sons were safe so we could tend to the business of getting me well.
As I was poked and prodded I asked the nurses and doctor if I would be able to speak that night at Listen To Your Mother. Mac Daddy thought me a freak for being worried about that while I was flinching in pain, but such is the power of LTYM. I was drugged up and sent home to rest, with a reminder to make a follow up appointment with my doctor next week. I slept and slept and slept some more and found myself lucid enough to speak that night. The show must go on, as they say! I got dressed (with help…in a pretty killer dress that a friend found and insisted would be a great fit for me…she was right if I say so myself!) and walked onto stage. My fellow cast mates were wonderfully supportive and helped me ever so gingerly when I had to sit and stand and move about.
I started my day in the emergency room and ended it on a stage.
Life is funny indeed.
When I stepped up to the mike to begin my tale, I felt calm, yet excited, but most of all, I felt whole. I learned something important about myself; a microphone has more healing power than Percoset.
RDU Moms (A toast to LTYM)
1 glass champagne (or prosecco in a pinch)
1 spoonful of blood orange sorbet
1 ounce Stoli Ohranj vodka
2-3 mint leaves
Pour champagne into a stemless wine glass. Add sorbet to champagne. Muddle mint leaves in a glass with vodka and strain into champagne.
Sip as a reminder to always Listen To Your Mother.
The drink sounds perfect, and I am SO glad that despite the scary, painful start to your day, you were able to join us that night!
So lovely! We should have had those backstage 😉
Glad you made it through and that you seem like you’re doing better. It truly was a powerful night!