The curtains closed for the last time and many of the cast members, the crew, the parents and teachers who helped put the show together were teary eyed on closing night. The wrap party was a lot of fun and none of my kids wanted to leave when it was time. The Blanco High School Addams Family: The Musical production brought a group of kids and adults together into a team; a cast and crew; a tribe. The energy generated by the collective effort was nearly palpable during the final evening together. The culmination of it all was some sort of group game that involved a lot of running and laughing, but not before one last sing-along of “When You’re an Addams,” as the celebratory cake was served.
Not surprisingly, on the ride home, I heard someone say, “What am I going to do now that Addams is over? It’s sort of sad.” Without a doubt, there are nearly three dozen kids in Blanco who are feeling something similar. All of the time and effort that went into the staging of the musical (the practice and performances that have practically monopolized the last few months), is finished. The show is over. It’s really sort of a bummer; actually, more like a letdown. Emotional letdown is a natural phase that follows the accomplishment of something big or important in life, something around which much of life seems to have revolved for a period of time, something that has been anticipated with excitement and preparation, but is over now; and the exhilaration associated with it is gone, too. Most of you have probably experienced the letdown effect and you know exactly what I’m talking about.
Remember, it’s wise to begin with the end in mind. At the end: Hang on to the people you worked with to prepare for the big event (whatever it was). Reach out. Do things together, once it’s over. Get together and talk about the fun times, and look for opportunities to make more happy memories together with the friends you made along the way. Always focus on the positives. If there were failures, learn from them. Determine to grow through the struggles and keep working, maintaining a positive growth-mindset. Know there will be an end when preparing for something big. Know the big day is coming and know it will pass. The excitement passes. Be ready for it. The sadness passes, once the show is over, too. Have a plan for what’s next. After all, it seems like someone once said that when one curtain closes, another one opens somewhere… maybe it was a door closing and a window opening… Who knows? Choose your metaphor.
Be well.
Aurale Huff, my mother, I love her, and it's so hard to say good-bye...
Aurale (Lee) Huff 21 October 1927 – 9 January 2010 Aurale (Lee) Huff of Harwood, TX, passed away early Saturday morning at Seton Medical Center-Hays, in Kyle. Services were held at the Harwood Cemetery, Sunday, January 10, 2010. She was born in Harwood to Walter and Iva Huff and was preceded in death by her parents; two brothers, Walter Huff, Jr. and Wayne Huff; her sister, Martha Lewis; a son, John Holbrook; a daughter, Melinda Antuna, two granddaughters, Heather Windham and Carrie Antuna, and great-granddaughter, Kindra Albert. Being mechanically inclined, at the age of 25, Lee rebuilt a Hillman-Minx automobile engine with no help other than instruction from her father, who had built airplanes in Harwood while she was a small child. Lee learned her trade in the family newspaper business and, known as a “tramp printer,” travelled across the United States working in newspapers in Houston TX, San Francisco CA, Cincinnati OH, Detroit MI, Modesto CA, and San Antonio TX, where...
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