The Moments We Said Goodbye

Tonight we premiered in Toulouse.

Two weeks ago today, R took his life.

It has been a curious past couple of days. I thought it would be much harder, but it would seem that most people have been keeping their grief to themselves, though there were many ashen faces around the circus today. Before the show begun, we all held hands for what felt like ages, and then suddenly, the circle broke and the show began.

B thought it would be too hard to play his music, but she said it turned out to be a comfort.

A was near tears after the show, frustrated that the end of his act was botched due to confusion in the music. Honouring R's music seemed the best way to pay his respects, and he felt that he had failed.

When the show was finally finished, L made a beeline for the exit. He plays the final piece of music in the show, a moment he would normally share with R. He performed that piece of music at the funeral. That's too much for anyone to bear.

I'll never forget a moment I shared with the technical director the night before. He had been R's friend for over 30 years and helped make a lot of the final arrangements. He just got back from a trip to India and saw cremation ceremonies on the banks of the Ganges river. He said that when the body was reduced to ashes, a family member would take them, turn their back to the river, throw the ashes over their shoulder, and walk away without looking back.

He said that that's what we need to do. R may have chosen for his path to end, but ours keeps going.

The show must go on.