A Hug From Home

Oh, I forgot about the brightest spot of all this month! Usually, when I roll over in bed in the middle of the night and see the message light flashing on my BlackBerry, I do my best to resist the temptation to read the email. Given the time difference between here and the US, it's likely to be something work related. My insomnia is already bad enough without thinking of all the things that lie in wait once the sun rises.

But one night this month, I gave in and read a message from my brother-in-law Ron (even though my gut churned at the thought of receiving even MORE bad news from home...) But the subject line read, "Cairo's Got Talent," so I figured it couldn't be too awful. Turns out it was the most wonderful news I've received in a long, long time.

I already knew my Broadway Star/actor/songwriter/singer buddy Christopher Jackson had released his first album this month, and even though it took about 3 days to download it on iTunes, I'd managed to listen to it and send him much love and praise from across the miles. It is so weird to hear someone you know personally singing on your personal portable music device! It means they've achieved a significant level of fame, but if you're lucky, they're still the person you've always known. And as I've mentioned about Chris, I've known him since the first time I laid eyes on him as a tyke in a blue and white sailor suit.

But now he is a full-grown, handsome young husband and father of two, a veteran of two wildly successful Broadway musicals ("The Lion King" and "In The Heights") and now there's the CD. It was almost too much to comprehend, until I read Ron's message. When you download a CD, you don't get access to the liner notes on the packaging, obviously. But Ron ordered his copy through the mail, and when it arrived, the first thing he noticed was that Chris sent ME a shout out, as one of the folks from Cairo who had made a difference in his life.

But then he made both me and Ron lose it by dedicating the CD to the memory of several people who've passed on--one of whom was my sister, Julie Newell. "I owe my Life, my Passion to you! Forever my Angels!"

It's hard to describe how I felt lying there in the dark, reading that message. But as Ron mentioned on his blog, it did remind me of the time Julie and I went to New York to see Chris perform shortly after "The Lion King" launched. He scored us two fairly good mezzanine seats, but they weren't together. Having watched her struggle through incredible pain from the lupus, just to get dressed and ready to head to the theater, it was agonizing climbing behind her on the steps as we made our way to the seats. And I probably missed half the show craning my neck to keep an eye on her, to make sure she was okay, even though I knew every joint in her body was probably screaming in pain.

But I'll never forget the way she flung herself at him afterwards, when we met up with him at the stagedoor. I had never seen her so proud of anyone, or anything, even ME for that matter. And I was just as proud and thrilled for him.

So much so, in fact, that I don't even mind sharing my Archangel Julie with Chris now that he's so famous. In the name of love, CJ, I am so proud you are my friend.