Under the Spotlight: Navigating Loss and Performance.
As I prepared for my first show over the weekend, my nerves were on full display. The wait for the event made the day drag on, particularly because my wife Kathy had been away on business all week. This left the kids and me to fend for ourselves. Our day started with Silky, our Australian Silky Terrier, acting sluggish and uninterested in her food or usual activities. We decided to put her in her crate after she couldn’t keep her food down. I hoped she would recover with rest, as she usually does after an upset stomach. However, today was different; she slept all day and only got up when we prompted her.
When Kathy returned, Silky’s lack of enthusiasm was a clear sign of trouble. She didn’t even greet Kathy with her usual excitement. I expressed my concerns to Kathy, “Welcome home, I’m worried about Silky.” Kathy was understandably upset, and we agreed to take Silky to the vet the next morning. We thought it might just be a stomach issue that could resolve itself within a day, as it had before. Despite our attempts, Silky refused to eat or go outside. Our daughters took it upon themselves to care for her, hoping some extra attention would help.
Fast forward to the evening, as my wife and I took a moment for ourselves in the garage before I had to leave for the show. That’s when we received the distressing call from our daughter. Silky wouldn’t move and was bleeding from her mouth. We were devastated to realize that she was dying in our daughter’s arms. Heartbroken, I wrapped Silky in a towel and handed her to Kathy. With a firm look, Kathy told me, “You go to your show!” I understood and quickly left.
Arriving at the show, I caught up with Cole and Topher, my former classmates. Topher was hosting, and we had a modest audience. I retreated to the green room to finalize my set and sipped on a Diet Coke to focus. The loss of Silky cast a shadow over the day, and the entire week. Yet, I channeled my nervous energy into preparing for the performance. Balancing family duties with personal goals reminded me of life’s delicate balance. It was a reminder to make the most of our time and shine while we can.
Before taking the stage, the weight of the day’s events became unbearable, and I felt compelled to share my turmoil with the other comics. The vulnerability of admitting my struggle, especially before my first show outside of class, was hard. Yet, they offered me their support and a listening ear, giving me the space to unburden myself. Their understanding gave me the freedom to perform as me. For their empathy and the opportunity to express myself without pretense, I am deeply thankful.
Brandon
