Click on the photos to enlarge them
Actually, I cried the day before yesterday but I wrote this post yesterday so the title was correct for yesterday’s yesterday but not for today. Anyway, me crying at all except at the end of Love Actually is such a rare event, I felt I had to blog about it.
As you must know, because I’ve bored you to death about it for months now, Spud is playing Judas in his school production of Godspell. The first night is
tomorrow tonight. I can’t get the songs out of my head and as I was preparing his sandwiches for tonight’s tea between tweaking-rehearsal and performance, I sang Beautiful City to myself. I suspected I might be allowing it to take over my life when I came to the line, We can build a city of man and sang, We can build a city of ham…
Yesterday (‘s yesterday) was the dress rehearsal. The Hub is an excellent photographer and took some great pics of the last three school productions Spud starred in (no bias here, honest). He gave them to Spud’s drama teacher and she loved them and asked if he would go along to yesterday’s yesterday’s dress rehearsal to take photos of this production.
The Hub has M.E. so of course he needed his loving and supportive wife along to hold the spare camera batteries. The fact that I got a sneak preview of the show was purely coincidental.
We had front row seats and we needed them, because my heart swelled with so much pride it took up all of the space between the audience and the stage.
I know he’s my son and I’m biased and all that rubbish, but Spud was fantastic. He began as a happy, hopeful man and changed over two hours to anger and betrayal via confusion and doubt.
He sang, with music and without.
He cried in Jesus’ arms the moment before he left to betray him. He sobbed on the floor after the crucifixion.
He was totally believable.
Teachers made a point of coming up to tell me how good he was and how he should pursue acting as a career. But better than that, the director told me that, for all of his talent, he is a lovely, lovely boy and she hopes her own son will grow up to be just like him.
Can you blame me for blubbing?