Friday 3

My father and I have a subscription to The Metropolitan Opera, the Friday 3 series. We have done it for 2 years thus far and are now making our choices for the next year.
The plan had some minor adjustments during my sojourn in Rwanda. Usually my brother filled in.
Since my return our ritual has a nice quiet tone. We usually eat at La Pain Quotidien. We talk about different things. Sometimes I babble about family stuff, sometimes we address politics and the real world. Sometimes I get the feeling I can read my Father's mind and he mine, and then sometimes I feel this isn't true at all.

Last Monday, my mother was in Cleveland admitting her 93 year-old mother to the hospital, my dog was dying and I was, in short, freaking out. I called my father on the verge of hysteria and to be honest have no recollection of what he said. But I felt better after.

That Friday, we went to see La Boheme. During dinner we discussed that Sunday would be Calypso's last day on earth but that things for Grummy seem to have stabilized. I was calm during dinner and we even had some laughs.
We went off to La Boheme, upon which the musical Rent is based. (Side note, this production of it is from my Uncle Frank Taplin's era at the Met).  I mention this fact to make it clear that I am totally familiar with the story. There were no plot twists or surprises.

During the fourth act, before Mimi had even entered the stage, I gasped in one of those deep choking breaths that is often a prelude to tears. And my dad reached across, grabbed hand, pulled me closer and didn't let go until the opera was over. I sobbed (quietly I hope) the entire act, but I felt safe and loved.