Yesterday morning, Iris woke up early to discover she had some kind of stomach bug. She was violently ill all day. The big problem was that it was opening night for her at the Frantic Follies. I was sure she would have to call in sick...she hardly had the strength to walk let alone dance and sing.
She somehow mustered the energy to get dressed and I drove her off to the show. I was still convinced that once there, she wouldn't be able to perform. There was just no way. But a couple of hours later, as Joe, Jamie and I sat in the audience, there she was....smiling, kicking up her heels in the cancan, flirting with Percy Brown in the Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail, playing the banjo and the saw and the clarinet in various numbers....I couldn't believe my eyes. You would never know there was anything wrong with her.
After the show, she smiled and chatted with people who were congratulating her on a job well done, but then made her way to the back of the room where I was waiting for her and practically collapsed in my arms. She asked to be taken home right away (we didn't stay for the post-show reception).
The evening made me look at Iris in a bit of a different light. I tend to worry about her alot, because she often doesn't seem very grounded. But watching how she conducted herself last night, I am in awe of her inner strength and stamina. I think she's going to be just fine.
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