It Was a WONDER-ful Night

I fulfilled a lifelong dream last night. It had been a dream of mine since I was a child growing up in good ol' Sedley, VA, a la' boondocks, USA. Last night, it was fulfilled.

I was in "da house" with none other than Steveland Morris, a.k.a. Stevie Wonder! I've always been a fan of Stevie's ever since I can remember. Loved his music every since I was about 10 y/o. I remember buying those '45's and playing them over and over on the old record player in our bedroom, dancing without cause and singing into the mirror with that hairbrush as a microphone. Songs like, "Living for the City", Signed, Sealed, Delivered", "You Haven't Done Nothin'", "Sir Duke", "Boogie on Reggae Woman", "Happy Birthday", "Hotter Than July", the list goes on and on. In the 11th grade, I wrote a report on Stevie Wonder for my black history project and I got a record player from the audio/visual folks at the library and played several of those '45's to the class as I read about my hero and favorite performer. I got an "A" on that report and the class got to dance a little. Thinking of seeing him in concert back then was nothing more than a pipe dream. Never thought I'd have the opportunity to witness greatness first hand.

What does this have to do with my husband you ask? It's a round-about thing. I had told my husband for many years if Stevie ever got even remotely close to VA, we're going. No matter the cost, no matter the venue, no matter what obstacles we have to overcome. We're going!
We both had people we wanted to see in person. He wanted to see Tina Turner. We did that about 7-8 years or so ago. He also wanted to see James Brown "just 1 more time before I die" he would say. We did that too. About 3 or so years ago. I wanted to see only 2 people that I'd never seen or ever thought I would see. Michael Jackson and Stevie Wonder. We never thought these 2 icons would even get close to this area of the world. Where would they play? Was there even anything around that could hold the amount of people that would buy tickets for them? We didn't think so. We waited and waited. We waited some more. John got sick and then John got sicker and then John passed away. And just a mere 3 months after his death, one of my dream performers shows up. I just had to go. I would have never forgiven myself if I hadn't and I think John would have wanted me to go. So I bought the ticket. A single ticket, a floor seat, 6 rows from the stage. I could have reached out and touched the very braids on his head, practically.

I could hardly wait for October 25th to get here. I was so excited. As I stepped through the door and handed my ticket to the lady, I thought I would burst. She says, "Are you seeing the show by yourself this evening?" "Yes", I say. "I am." "Oh, enjoy the show then!", she says. I stepped through the turnstile and it hit me. I'm seeing this show alone. My dream performer concert was supposed to be something that I shared with my husband just like the 2 of his dream concerts that we attended. I walked to my seat. I sat. Alone. No one to chat with while the stage was being readied. No one to share the laughter with. No one to talk endlessly about what a great show it was when it was over. No one to share this moment with.

Stevie was great. He hasn't lost a step. He looked good and sounded even better. He is the consummate professional. Full of life, love and energy. He belted out song after song and I sang right along with him. I sweated, danced and sang myself to exhaustion. Hardly believing that this was all real. When it was over, I had my single ticket and a car in the garage. Headed back home with the silence of an empty passenger seat. It was deafening.

John would have loved the show. He would have talked for hours about how great it all was. He would have told everyone that he saw in the coming days how fantastic it was and how much we enjoyed it. He was there in spirit I know and in a picture which I lovingly placed in my purse before leaving home, determined that he would go with me somehow. I looked up into the hot lights above the stage and blew him a kiss because I knew my John wouldn't let me have all this fun alone. I'm sure he was there, next to me as I danced and sang. And when the lights came on and the crowds pushed out, I trudged home. Feeling good and bad at the same time. The first concert I had attended alone in 25 years and it was one of the best I'd ever seen. But it would have been even better had my John been by my side, bobbing his head and clapping his hands to the beat.

I miss him. John, my date for the night.