I thought about depravity this afternoon after the matinee--about the way people destroy one another in both large and small ways. I felt profoundly sorry for my Mr. Ex. He hurt the people who loved him most and it may be a very long time before he's again regarded with love and respect. And I thought, too, about what a losing game revenge is and how hard it is to lay down that sword and shield--and how heavy it is if you keep carrying it.
Tonight, I thought about ghosts and the two that I've experienced. My father came for a quick look at my older daughter a couple of days after we brought her home from the hospital, and my father-in-law (whom I never met in "real" life) came to me in a very vivid dream welcoming me into the family the night our second daughter was conceived.
In these post-divorce months, I've never been more convinced that Love is a life-altering force. Love is so strong that it can pull our ghosts back to visit us, and it's what saves us from destroying each other and ourselves. Without it, we are doomed.
I walked back to my hotel after the play tonight--16 blocks and I took it slow, trying to notice the people and the sights around me, and think about all the times I took those after theatre walks with my husband. Over the years, he and I saw more than 100 plays in New York City, but now the curtain has come down. It's an odd feeling--a little bit ghostly--but I'm having a wonderful trip without him.
When the curtain came down after Blithe Spirit tonight there was a ghostly image of the playwright lightly hovering on its surface. A wonderful directorial choice, and I left the theatre contemplating what I'd like to leave behind in this world, and what I'll be dragging behind me when I "cross over." I hope it will be lighter than the giant suitcase, I'll be rolling to Penn Station tomorrow.