Last Friday, my band had its first show back in 15 months. It was exhilarating both to play to a packed house and to, by extension … well, put our vaccinations to the test. But there was also something bittersweet about the night …
Something bittersweet about every night I’ve performed as part of A Nightmare on 80s Street …
Every time I’ve performed as part of Nightmare, I wonder what my mom would have thought of it. As of this moment, Nightmare is the only significant part of my life, personal or professional, that my mom never had any knowledge of. I joined up with the project in April 2019, six months after she was already in a persistent vegetative state, and she passed away eight months later.
Nightmare is something I never got to tell my mom about. It’s something she never got to see. Even my becoming an MFT was something she at least got to see the beginnings of.
I think she would’ve gotten a kick out of Nightmare. She was never into rock or pop music, but the sheer theatrics we put on — yeah, I’m pretty sure she would’ve enjoyed that.
As I get older and older, I know there will be more and more things in my life that my mom will never have known. But for now, it’s only A Nightmare on 80s Street. And that’s why, at least for now, there is something bittersweet about every show we play.
I would’ve loved to bring her to one of our shows.