Bend

This week I threw a party to watch my network TV debut, only the network switched the airing dates of the episodes and I discovered only hours before the party that my episode would not in fact be airing that night.

I handled the change, the disappointment, the embarrassment much better than I would have pre-boys. At first I was aghast, and I panicked tearfully for a few minutes. And then I started composing a comic e-mail to let everyone know, started designing funny quips with which to greet my guests at the door, even briefly entertained the idea of making a faux-trauma episode in my backyard with a tripod and a video camera and playing that. I just bent in the direction the wind was blowing and went with it.

And we had a great party.

As friends from different parts of my new life met and talked, I felt proud of all I've accomplished in this last year or so. My next door neighbor, the air traffic controller, chatted with my parents, who dropped in from their home just down the road in San Carlos. My dear friend from HAND, a criminologist, enjoyed chatting with my SF and East Bay actor friends. My husband enjoyed swapping South America stories with one of my favorite Bay Area playwrights, and I caught up with friends of Bruno's, who have now become friends of mine. The room was abuzz with talent and interest and good-will and variety, and I felt proud to call all these people friends.

I can remember how distraught I was about leaving NYC. How I felt my life was ending. And then lives actually ended, my sons', and I learned how to be less brittle. To avoid breaking by bending. To take and appreciate the gifts in front of you. To draw strength from them to protect yourself against the storms at hand. To rage along with the storm if you have to, but to avoid rigidness at all costs. Bend to carry the load, bend as low and deep as you need to, just don't snap. Someday, the storm will abate, the load will lighten,and you'll straighten up again.

After all, you never know what may be right around the bend.