Billy Joel

This day started out uneventful. I mean, if you take out the fact that my mother was in the hospital after just being diagnosed with cancer. It was October, and my head never swirled so much. Everything I depended on at that point became fragile. Everything I knew to be true became gray. Adam and I both didn’t work that morning so we both went to the hospital to visit mom. She was there but she wasn’t there. A very different version of my mother.

She was watching “You’re Life, AtoZ” or something like that. They were holding a contest that day. Call in and be the 3rd caller and get tickets to the Billy Joel musical, Movin Out. Cooli,  I thought to myself, if I win Mom would love to go.

I grabbed the phone and with no luck hurling my way in that particular time of year I heard on the other line, “Congratulations, you’re the third caller.” Um what...that isn’t supposed to happen. But there you have it. I won the contest. I took a chance and I was the lucky caller.

I gave them my details, I picked up the tickets. I planned for my mom and I to go together, to enjoy this show. God had different plans.

“I am just too tired, Ria,” my mother said to me the night of the show. I knew my stubborn mom. She was not going. There was no amount of coaxing I could do to get her to come.

So I did the thing I knew to do. I phoned a friend.  A friend whom I met in college and was a great sounding board for me. A friend who showed up without reservation and kept me sane that night.

Driving into Phoenix I was anxious. I hate driving in Phoenix. Too many one-way roads. Too many possibilities for car accidents. Marissa and I pulled in and realized almost too late we were on the wrong side of town. I stood in the middle of Phoenix with Marissa sobbing, “We missed it...its like the omen of my mom’s cancer. We didn’t make it to the show and I don’t see her making it out too.

Amazing to think that friends that I made at ASU defined me. Shaped me. Enabled me to grow.

Again, I never took the time to tell you all what it meant to me. So I am saying it now. Thank you. Thank you for showing me how adult friends behave. Thank you for unapologetically being there for me. It was innate for you. It was pure. I hope to someday return the favor. I hope that I can be there for you all in your darkest times. Before this, all of us had happy times. Dancing at school, enjoying each other's company. We grew together because of the real life happening in front of us. I am who I am because of you. Aaron, Cerrin, Marissa and Rachel. It is you all who showed me compassion as an adult. Again, I say, thank you. My dance family.

As the night went on, we found the theater. Marissa and I enjoyed a memorable presentation of  Moving Out. I clapped, I sobbed and I was transformed into a place where Mom wasn't sick and I was happy again. Theater did its due diligence. It floated me away from my reality.