Recently my son James performed with the Young Playwrights Lab at Touchstone Theatre. It was exciting. There were lots of rehearsals, and I was so happy and looking forward to the performance.

I ended up with four tickets to the show. Three went unused. James’ older brother had to work the night of the show. So did his father. James’ older sister caught COVID. So I went with James to the pre-show rehearsal. I sat with the actors until they went backstage. Then I went to use the bathroom.

Unfortunately when I returned, the door was being set up. I had to leave the auditorium and get in line to go back in. It was awkward.

Ahead of me and behind me in line were little family groups. Some held bouquets. I felt lonely.

Even back inside the auditorium, the seat I wound up it was separated on either side by empty seats. One person near me asked if I was saving seats. I wasn’t. It felt strange.

Then I found myself missing my mother. Even six months ago, she could not have attended, but I would have been texting her updates about the show. I found myself wondering if her phone was still active.

Finally the show started, and I sat back and enjoyed every minute of it.

When the show concluded, I could see James on the stage, looking for me where I had been sitting earlier. I waved and hollered until he saw me. He had to go back downstairs to change. That wait was not so bad, as there were a few people around but most had left. He reappeared in his street clothes, and we left. I found myself happy to be going home.

I understood then why my mother used to drag me places when I was a young adult.

As an introvert, I generally don’t mind a bit of alone time. But not having anyone to share the play experience with me was just a bit lonely.