Photo: Pebblecreek
The new year always strikes me as an arbitrary time marker. The truth is, it's as good a time as any to stop and take a breath. Inevitably the turn of the year causes at least some reflection in even the humbuggiest of us.
In looking back at 2012, I have realized that I have turned a corner in adulthood. My friends and colleagues are not just talking about being parents themselves; I am now at the age, where our own parents have become a hot topic. They've entered into the conversation.
Our kid's grandparents are retiring - or maybe they're not. Some of them are growing older gracefully while others have developed first name relationships with their Botox doctors. Some are getting divorced and some are getting re-married. Some are lowering their cholesterol and others have committed to donuts for breakfast. Some have become ill, or passed away, and others have finally climbed Machu Picchu. Our parents are buying condos, selling businesses, going back to school, traveling, and taking blood pressure medication.
Our parents' generation is transitioning.
There was a sketch I wrote for Rated P that I cut from the script before rehearsal began. It addresses the grown-up child/parent relationship. I cut it because ultimately we wanted Rated P to be about parenting actual children. Introducing the dynamic between adult children and parents seemed glaringly out of place within the context of the rest of the show.
However, the reality is, that in the midst of parenting our own children, we of course maintain our own status as "child" to our parents. So though this sketch may not have been quite right for Rated P, I am posting it here in light of my own New Year's reflection.
Written with love for all the "transitioning" parents in my life.
MOVING
Lights
up on ROB’S MOM in her living room filled with boxes. The doorbell rings. She makes her way through a maze of boxes
to find ROB, her adult son, at the door.
ROB
We got
the date for Jessie’s graduation. June
13th.
Well that’s
good to know. I’ll mark my calendar.
ROB
So, this
time next year, she’ll be … (noticing the boxes) What’s happening?
MOM
Rob, I’m
moving.
ROB
I
thought you were kidding!
MOM
(Shouting
off to the movers) I opened the garage
doors … you can start in there.
ROB
My
records are in the garage!
MOM
You have
a house with a basement and an attic.
Take your records.
ROB
How can
you be so nonchalant?
MOM
Your
father, may he rest in peace, and I, lived in this house for 34 years. I don’t want to live here for one without
him.
ROB
What
about the door frame from the kitchen?
MOM
Honey.
ROB
How will
you know how tall we were? They’ll paint
over it.
MOM
You used
to be short, Rob. Now you’re tall. That’s all that matters.
ROB
You
can’t move.
I am
moving. Today.
ROB
What’s
so great about an “Active Adult Community?”
MOM
The
tennis.
ROB
Who will
watch Jessie?
MOM
Jessie
can watch herself now.
ROB
So what,
you think, “Ohhhh, my granddaughter’s going to college, I should move to
Sunnybrook Village and leave Rob completely abandoned? No daughter.
No mother.”
MOM
If by
abandoned you mean, I move to the next town over while you remain in your house …
with your wife … then, yes, I’m completely abandoning you.
ROB
What if
you hate your neighbors?
MOM
This is
what happens, Rob. Life moves you along.
ROB
The
hydrangeas out front are temperamental.
The “buyers” will kill ‘em.
(MOM
hands ROB something wrapped in tissue paper).
ROB
What is this?
Open it.
(It’s a Chewbacca, Star Wars figurine).
ROB
Chewy! Where’d you find him?
He was
in the utensil drawer. He’s been there
for years. Always tangled with the
whisk. I could have moved him but …
(MOM
gets choked up. ROB makes a Chewbacca
sound with the back of his throat. MOM laughs. They hug and remain in the hug…).
ROB
Mom?
MOM
Yes,
honey?
ROB
Did you,
when you were packing up, did you … uh ... find …
MOM
Your
nudey magazines are in with your records, Robert.
ROB
(Beat. They are still hugging). Mom?
MOM
I won’t
tell Debbie.
ROB
(Beat). My daugther’s going to college….
MOM
In a
year …
ROB
And
you’re going to play tennis and I’m left with my wife, Chewbacca, Led Zepplin records,
and old porn.
MOM
You like
all those things. (MOVER enters).
MOVER
Sorry to
interrupt. Mrs. J, we’re ready for the
furniture.
MOM
Go
ahead. Don’t mind us.
MOVER
(Calling
off) … C’mon fellas, let’s get this party started.
LIGHTS FADE on ROB and MOM still
hugging as the movers move the furniture.
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