I listened to a radio show on the way home, and the host was talking about spending the day with someone famous. People called in with Jesus being one of the top names.

Also mentioned were people from history, like Abraham Lincoln, sports personalities or influential politicians. All are top choices, but there are events in life I’d love to experience again.

The first time I saw the Grand Tetons in the early morning light.

Watching a golden sunset over the boulders of the Pacific Coast.

Floating in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico without a care in the world.

As pleasant as those events sound, spending time with people is what’s most intriguing. There are people in my family who are no longer here that I’d love to get to know better.

One of the top people on that list would be my grandfather, Henry Eade. He was a wonderful storyteller, and I’d love to hear more stories about his days growing up in Lebanon. His father left his family and came to America for a better life.

I’d treasure learning how my grandfather and his mother made enough to feed a family and keep a roof over their heads.

I’d love to hear him talk about how he got started in business and about all the opportunities he took and the ones he missed. Henry Eade was a spiritual man, and I’d love to hear his quiet explanations about destiny and following one’s dreams.

I’d love to spend the day with my dad. I used to think if I ever talked to him again, I’d ask him pointed questions about his struggles, and ultimate success, over alcohol abuse.

But that’s not how I’d waste my time with him.

I’d want to spend the day talking about the little things in his life.

I probably heard his daredevil stories at least a dozen times, but what I wouldn’t give to hear the story of his looking for buried treasure one more time. What I wouldn’t give to hear his voice, a voice that grows dimmer in my memory with each passing day.

My dad was a master joke teller, and I’d love to hear some of his top jokes. Then I’d ask him for advice about how to be a better grandparent. For all the faults he had as a parent, he was an incredible grandfather.

I’d love to learn how he endeared himself to each one of his grandchildren, leaving them with sweet memories.

But more than spending the day with someone who’s passed away, if I had the choice and the power, there’s a special request I’d make.

I wish I could go back and experience a day with my sons when they were young, before they were grown men with families of their own.

For one day, I’d love to be a mommy again.

I’d like to spend a day with each one of my sons beginning with when they were born. I’d spend time rocking and holding them. I wouldn’t worry about folding clothes or cleaning the house.

I’d cuddle and snuggle them until they’d fall asleep in my arms, lose myself in that sweet baby smell and hold their tiny little hands.

Then I’d spend time with them as toddlers. We’d play with toys, have tickle fests and eat ice cream cones and splash in water puddles.

We’d take slow walks, stopping to look at everything along the way – spiders, ants, the cracks in the sidewalk, flowers and dew on the grass. As the day progressed and they grew, I’d spend time talking to them about what they liked, who their friends were, what they thought about life in general.

I’d spend more time listening, hugging, smiling and savoring every minute of being with my children and the people who made me who I am.

Having the opportunity to go back and experience those days isn’t a wish that could come true. But I’ve been given a second chance.

I might not be able to hold my own babies again, but I can love, snuggle and enjoy every minute I can with our grandchildren who are extraordinary humans.

Being with them is a dream that can come true.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

 

 

Last year, Taylor Swift performed live to a crowd of 96,000 people in Australia. It’s amazing how anyone could conquer stage fright to sing in front of a huge audience.

Now imagine teenagers singing, dancing and performing in front of a theater packed with relatives, peers and teachers. That’s exactly what many of our thespians did over the past month through their live musicals.

Our granddaughter has been in theater since junior high, and she loves immersing herself in a production, whether it’s a dual role of nice and mean teacher in “Miss Nelson is Missing,” the hysterical Clairee Belcher in “Steel Magnolias” or funny Sister Mary Patrick in “Sister Act.”

I’ve watched Kylie grow in confidence as she auditioned for, and earned, starring roles on the stage. It’s amazing seeing her friends perform in costumes, wigs and make-up. We’re used to seeing them in T-shirts and jeans, but they are transformed once they step on that stage.

Unlike professional performers, these teens attend classes all day, writing essays, learning algebra and completing study packets, and then go to the theater.

They build sets, including painting and decorating. They assemble the costumes, many of them learning to sew on buttons and stitch rips. They comb and style wigs and make sure the make-up trays are filled and clean.

They learn lines and practice dances and songs. In after-school rehearsals, they learn where to stand, how to work the lights and how to play off another character.

The bonds they develop in theater run deep. Not only because they spend so much time together, but because they depend on each other to make the characters, play or musical come seamlessly to life.

Fine arts relationships start early. Our youngest granddaughter is in the sixth grade, and her junior high staged their first-ever musical concert this week. Families sat in folding chairs to watch these nervous pre-teens perform.

One duo seemed to struggle a bit. I glanced at the back where Katherine and the other performers were waiting. They were standing up, acting out the hand motions and mouthing the words to their friends on the stage. I could feel their encouragement, and I knew the singers on the stage could as well.

Two girls sang “Defying Gravity.” One of the girls was in a wheelchair, and she sang the main part of not letting anything hold her down. Seeing her growing confidence and how she moved her chair along with the music, her partner encouraging her as well as all the other singers in the back, brought the audience to tears.

Fine Arts brings out the best in people, especially our young people.

The performance is all about entertaining the audience and making sure they come along with the actors on a fantasy journey.

Many thanks to the directors who work tirelessly before, during and after school for ensuring these young actors and singers see their hours of rehearsal come alive on the stage.

The next time you see an advertisement for a high school musical or concert, do yourself a favor and go. Lose yourself in the magic of the stage and forget about the troubles of the real world.

You’ll laugh, you’ll cry and, most of all, you’ll be amazed at how these young people will melt your heart.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.