A friend has...

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 ... a small, intimate theatre in Chicago.  It seats about 25 people or so.  A neat space.

Last night, I went to see their latest production.  OMG.  Not only was the acting great, the story seemed all too familiar.  I felt like someone had been spying on my own life and put it on stage.  It may not have been a perfect representation of me, but I can tell you, it was pretty scary just how close it was.

A gentleman lives with the guilt of his friend's death following a car crash.  He was the medical power of attorney.  After getting word that there was nothing more the doctors could do to make his friend better, he had to be the person to "make the call" to unplug the machines that were monitoring his friend.  Just listening to the gentleman's description of that anguished moment of listening to the blipping of the monitors slowing down to almost nothing and then the final <beeeeeeeeeeeep>.  It's a gut-wrenching thing to witness first-hand.  The opening of the play brought it all back into a clear memory of doing so for my best friend two years ago.

Within the play, the gentleman spelled out to other characters what he was dealing with in the grieving, but one thing really stood out for me.  You see, I remember needing to make a conscious decision to get out of a serious rut.  I was reliving my best friend, Charles', final days practically every day, as if I could have done anything to have made his cancer go away.  Maybe I wasn't thinking "He'd still be here today if only I..."  In the end, I was Charles' medical power of attorney.  I knew he was still in sound mind to sign his own DNR (do not resuscitate) form.  My own memory of seeing his eyes for the last time stands out all the time.  They were beautiful.  But that last look he gave me as I was leaving his hospital room basically told me without saying anything verbally, HE KNEW we would not communicate again.  I would eventually make the decision even though I was not alone at the time.  I made the call.  It took me over 7 months to even think of beginning to consider having a social life again.  

Work in parish life was also at a crossroads as I was closing two parishes and changing assignments at the same time that Charles was still alive, but very ill.  Again, very eerie to see the main character struggling with his own work.  It was very real once again.


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