Kiss today goodbye
And point me toward tomorrow
We did what we had to do
Won’t forget, can’t regret
What I did for love
–“What I Did For Love,” A Chorus Line (written by Marvin Hamlisch/Edward Kleban)
My husband and I have a nightly ritual: We put the kids to bed, grab a delectable delight (note: use your imagination!), and snuggle down on the couch to watch whatever show we’re currently immersed in. It is—hands down—the best part of every day. This has been our routine for as long as I can remember, at least since we got married, and we don’t often deviate. It’s the only time we truly have to ourselves and to each other.
Last night started out like any other but then I heard my phone alarm go off at 7:55 p.m. and I remembered that it was movie night with Josh Groban! Since this quarantine began, Josh (like tons of other artists) has been giving fans wonderful little snippets of him singing in the shower (the awesome acoustics, you see), which I posted about a few weeks ago. He’s also been joining other musical guests on various “virtual” projects (Disney sing-a-longs, Broadway’s honoring of Stephen Sondheim, etc.) And most recently he started hosting these “movie nights” where every two weeks he shares a live one-time screening of fans’ favorite concerts on YouTube, along with a simultaneous Q&A session. I missed his first viewing because my husband and I were knee-deep in Starz’ Black Sails (awesome show, by the way!) and I figured I could catch Josh’s concert online the following day, which I did and loved!
But last night we found ourselves in-between shows and when my phone alarm went off, my husband suggested we not start anything new so that I could watch Josh. He knows I’ve been having a super tough time lately (hasn’t everyone?!) and that Josh always raises me up. (I know how amazing my husband is for that, by the way. He’s the best ever!!) I hesitated at first but eventually he twisted my arm, LOL. And so, for the next hour-and-a-half I sat on my couch in my own little world absorbing the Voice, the orchestra, the music from Josh’s album Stages (that’s the one where he sings classics from a variety of Broadway shows).
It was the first time I didn’t cry during one of his performances! And I think that’s because I was so happy in my heart and soul just to sit there and forget everything but his haunting melodies. I’m so desperate for distraction from my worries and insecurities, especially these days, and to find that solace with Josh feels like I’m reconnecting with an old “friend”—something we’ve all been unable to do for the past six weeks. That sounds silly, I know, but I’ve always believed Josh is my musical soulmate. I’ve tried to pen just how he and his music make me feel but the words never seem to do this justice. Perhaps the words simply don’t exist and I’m OK with that. I have everything I need to know buried deep within my soul.
As I was listening to Josh sing, I started reminiscing about all the times I’ve had the privilege to see him live (and even to meet him and get his autograph twice!). There are way too many to number but those days count as some of the best in my life. The best!!! I’ve seen him with friends, I’ve seen him with family, I’ve gone to see him by myself, I’ve had amazing seats and not-so-amazing seats (honestly the seats don’t matter all that much—with Josh the experience is hearing and feeling his Voice), I’ve been lucky enough to indulge him in small, intimate theaters (think the Town Hall in Times Square and the Allen Room at Lincoln Center) and also huge venues like Madison Square Garden. Each show offers a unique feel, but I prefer the smaller venues. His Town Hall show ranks as one of my all-time favorites because his voice just … boomed! … in that tiny theater. It hovered all around me and literally took my breath away. Still does when I think about it. I’m pretty sure I cried during that entire performance (I went alone so there was no one to judge me)! 😊
Anyways, about halfway through last night’s show it dawned on me that I don’t know when—or even if—I’m going to see Josh live again. That thought makes me ache in places I didn’t even know existed. I could cry right now just thinking about it. I know I am supremely lucky to have seen him as recently as February, at the first (and only) of his special Great Big Radio City shows (especially considering his April (and most likely his June) show has been postponed). But nothing will ever be enough for me when it comes to Josh. Before I met my husband, he was the one constant in my life from the first moment I heard him sing back in December 2001. Holy cow, that’s almost 20 years ago! And my love and devotion for Josh has only strengthened since then. The thought of never experiencing him again live … geez, I can’t even indulge that.
But the truth is, we don’t know what the new reality will be once this whole world reopens. Will we be able to attend concerts and ball games and movies and unique experiences where people are essentially required to closely mingle? What will that look like? What will that feel like? I guess the bigger question for me is if/when they do open these sorts of venues/experiences back up, will I feel comfortable enough to frequent them? And I don’t have an answer to that. My deep-seated anxieties tend to bury me and many times I’m unable to dig myself out, which further saddens and depresses me. I’m determined to fix myself, though, because I don’t want to live my life in fear. And I certainly don’t want to live my life in a world that doesn’t include a live version of my beloved Josh Groban. He and his music are just too important to who I am, and I refuse to give up any part of myself.
So, I pray the powers that be can figure out this pandemic and this virus and put our world back together again. If only so that we can partake in those moments and experiences (like music) that bring us joy, unite us, and remind us that all hope isn’t lost, that we will “live” again, in happiness, in community, in harmony. And I hope when it is time to cross that bridge again, I’m strong and brave enough to make it to the other side. Who knows, maybe Josh will even be waiting for me when I get there.