Invisible Me

I grew up on the stage; singing, dancing, hogging stage left to stage right. If there was a spotlight, I was under it; I was the first to sign up for talent shows and the first to audition for the biggest part; when the curtain closed I prayed for an encore; and where there wasn't a stage, I set up impromptu ones - in my parents basement, in the sink gallery at my hairdresser, on a piece of modern art at the Carnegie Museum - security was quick to give me the hook though.

Later in life, when academics and athletics made traditional performance opportunities more scarce, I looked for other ways to lay claim to center stage. Say by repeatedly raising my hand to answer each one of the professor's questions, by shooting and scoring our team into the top ranks of collegiate lacrosse, and by turning dining room tables into edible masterpieces for friends and family. For ages it seemed that each of my 'ta da' moments garnered thunderous applause from my loyal fans. And I ate it up.

However recently, someone said to me, 'you realize that you just became invisible, don't you?'
'Huh?'
'From now on, you are just Mary's mom. Invisible.'
I hadn't thought about it, but it was absolutely true. Life's casting director had started calling back another promising player while demoting me to stage crew or worse yet, lights. Each week, the spotlight seems to pass by me a little faster and focus on another rising star. Not even freshly baked scones, a ruffly red dress, and five inch stacked heels could take the attention off the little someone I was toting around this weekend.

The thing is, the spotlight seemed to find some other more seasoned players recently as well. Dressed in my post pregnancy finest, I walked into a reception hall filled with more than 800 St. Mary's women and found myself playing another role: Nora's Daughter. No one there was familiar with my past performances - they had gathered to cheer on my award-winning Mom as she took the stage, accepted her prize, and delivered some inspiring remarks.

Finally toward the end of the evening, as the sea of women finished applauding four of St. Mary's most accomplished alumnae, including my mother, there was a contingent ogling over a good-looking guy holding the cutest little baby. I took it upon me to play the role of wife and escorted them off stage right. 

After years and years of being the one to take the bows and accept the applause, I figure it's my turn to wear black, change the scenery, and hand out props. And honestly, I'm kind of loving it. After all, standing backstage as Peter's wife and Mary's Mom, Nora and Don's daughter and Erin and Adam's sister, friend, niece, aunt, cousin, and teammate to many is an honor and reward in and of itself.    

Because I've learned the best role that I can play is that of support system to those I love. Just being the pastry baker, note taker, hair straightener, applause creator and above all smile maker is a pretty great gig.

Lo.