Since Donna died I knew I may never feel the presence of a deeply felt connection and awe. To be embraced in wonderment by another again. I believe there are random moments that are organic in nature and powerful in meaning. These moments happen without the rending of ones life in search of the missing parts. These moments bring unknown insight that deserves to be measured.
A couple of weeks ago I went to a play. I saw Prima Facia staring Jodi Comer. The play tells the story of a British Barrister, Tess. She’s a criminal defense attorney defending men charged with sexual abuse. In the first half of the play Tess talks about using the law and reasonable doubt to win cases for these men. She pleads her case that she’s just following the law. Later in the play Tess is sexually assaulted. She faces what she has done to other women. No spoilers.
This is a one woman play. Two plus hours without intermission. Jodie Comer is a force of nature. Her work and her art is beyond belief. This was a two hour monologue. For two days I struggled to find an analogy that captures how she leveled up this genius writing. I thought of a snare drum relentless beating, changing tempo, and never stoping. Close. It came to me that she was Neil Peart, the drummer with Rush, doing a two hour solo using each and every drum, tomes, bass drum, three snare drums, edge snare, full set of cymbals, hi hats, etc etc etc. Every single drum was used to communicate.
Jodi Comer did the same with her voice, her staging, her tone, timber of her voice, her acting, her facial expressions, her hands, her softness, her pain. Two hours of beating out a story as dramatically and powerfully without missing a beat. She did it while moving the stage pieces. She carried me though every word touching all I hear when I crisis counsel. Every gesture along a brilliant narrative arch of a critical message spoke volumes we all need to hear. We need to listen, believe, and trust women who are sexually assaulted. These victims need to feel they are not alone.
Prima Facia tore me opened. I witnessed and felt the depth and breath of what creative genius was and is in real time in real life 60' away. Suzie Miller wrote a powerful and important play. Jodi took that writing to genius. A raw driven emotional genius without pause. She even did 5' in a pouring rain on stage. When the play ended I was breathless and lost in what I just witnessed. Lost in knowing this will never be duplicated in my life as I rush toward my expiration date. I found myself lost in the reality of nearly touching genius and realizing how profound this was for me and my grief.
I did have the Playbill and I brought a Sharpie cuz I did want to see if I could get an autograph. I left the theater stood by the barriers near the stage door. About four deep away figuring I'd never get an autograph. But the God's were with me. Comer stepped to where I was after the folks in front got their's signed and left. She signed my Playbill I said to her, "Thank you for this important work and message. I'm a crisis counselor and this means so much." Comer looked me in the mug and said, "Thank you for your work." And it was over. The play reminded me that as a crisis counselor I can listen better and hear deeply when a woman speaks about her trauma. Thank you Miller and Comer.
I know old man beautiful genius of a woman said five words to me...yup I went there. I did for about an hour. Then being all me and full of mull and questions I began to unpack what happened. It took a few days of me being all gobsmacked by her and her art. Of wanting to just be in her presence to learn how genius is found, unfolded, and flown like a kite for all to see. To be in that world for a moment more. Of course it will NEVER happen. I'm so unworthy to even kiss the hem of her robe. Which is fine. My pipe dreams are far and few between so allow me this one.
There was more. There is the Venn. More than one. Comer. Me. Prima Facia. In the infinitesimal small overlap is insight/presence. The genius that played before my eyes in that Venn overlap became a surrogate marker for my grief and loss. What I witnessed on stage and by the stage door was an embodiment of having Donna in my life. Or better said an embodiment of what it was like to be married to Donna for 28 years. To feel that strength of being. That unyielding confidence and drive to make their art their's. To make art scream.
Donna is not Jodie. Jodie is not Donna. But for me in this Comer/Prima Facia moment there was presence and warmth I bathed in. I had not felt that presence since Donna died. In my memories of Donna I do feel that presence in isolation. The Venn of Donna and I is nearly a complete overlap. There was a presence with Donna from day one and for 30 years in the overlap. That presence did not die when Donna died. What died was the sense I would never feel that presence again? Would I ever be engulfed in the truth of another so completely again? To feel my own truth for just a moment. For a few hours I was caught up in a presence again that held me.
Even after these years of grieving and loss this random moment tells me I'm not died inside. I can feel what I felt when I first met Donna, a presence that captured me. Held me in awe. A presence that bolstered my being. Comer passed by me in a nano second but left a deep impression not just of her as an artist but a reminder of my ability to feel again. To see again. To be again. This is not puppy love. It is knowledge.
Thank you Jodie. You ignited in me a capacity to accept that though I no longer have Donna's living presence I have our memories. You signed my Playbill Jodie. If you or team Jodie reads this I will sign "Donna, A Photo Memoir of Love and Loss" for you.
