In May of 2008, several of the forum participants gathered in New York to see Gabriel Byrne in a semi-staged version of Camelot at Lincoln Center.  We were lucky enough to meet him after the show because "Pmungle" gave him a handmade quilt inscribed with thoughts originated by "CountyMayo" and a few other women on the threads.  He was very kind and gracious and stepped outside especially to see the "IT Forum" women and thank us for the quilt.  We had a spectactular weekend.  What follows is the post I wrote upon arriving back home.

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  As most of you know by now, a number of us were fortunate enough to see Gabriel Bryne, live in Camelot this weekend and many, myself included, were able to get a chance to meet him face to face. The “afterbyrne” of being so close to the man that has so preoccupied our thoughts and actions for so long, has taken some of us through a range of intense and overwhelming emotions.  The heart-thumping, nauseating anticipation that came as each new figure emerged from the stage door, the aha-moment of electricity when our eyes first rested on the unmistakable face, the sleepless nights spent re-living the few details we can remember, the crashing isolation of boarding the plane and bringing to an end, the magical weekend we’ve been planning and talking about for months.

In an effort to wrestle with some pretty heady emotions, I wanted to try to write something here that captures what I saw and heard and felt over the last few days. There are so many adjectives, so many glorious words I could use to describe the sensation of getting within a few inches of Gabriel Byrne, but as usual, I am grappling hard with phrasing it just right.   I feel the way I did when I first posted the mojo thread, Iike I’m going to physically blow apart if I don’t find the right words to convey what’s in my head and heart right now.  I think I’ll be able to get a better handle on my rollercoaster emotions if I can just get it said, if I can just put it to paper.  I don’t know if the rest of the girls are feeling this way right now but if so, I invite you all to add your thoughts here too.

I’ll start with the physical; get the obvious part over with, because everyone wants to know about the sight and the sound of him. Yes he was every bit as beautiful as he is on the screen, yes his eyes were as blue, his face was as handsome. He was actually a little shorter and thinner than I had expected, his hair was always disheveled and messed up, his clothes were casual and maybe even slightly frumpy and as usual, the look came together like magic on him.  But the striking thing was seeing him in the stark pixels of reality, the highest of definitions, topping anything I’m able to see with my oversized plasma screen television.  Looking at individual strands of salt and pepper hair twisting over his face or feathering messily over an ear, seeing the crows feet around his eyes, studying the angles of his nose and chin when he turned his head to the side to speak to another admirer. Then there were the sounds, again I was taken aback, dumbfounded, bowled over to hear that voice, that accent rolling around in the conversational sentences he was aiming at me. Equally striking was the feeling of his warm and expressive hand wrapped around my own in a simple handshake and the sensation of my hand on his back, his on mine, as we gathered close for a photograph. And the most memorable thing of all; was not so much the blueness of his eyes but how kind, animated and sparkling they were when he briefly looked into mine and there was, for the first time, no camera or television screen brokering the connection.

But beyond the extraordinary look and feel of the man, the thing I noticed right away, that I can’t get out of my head, that I’ve always suspected and of now feel certain, is that this man embodies humanity and kindness. The image we’ve pieced together of him, of incredible intelligence and intense generosity is true and its all there for anyone to see when they meet him face to face. You don’t have to look hard to find it, it’s as much of part of him as his nose or his eyes. Other stars, in my opinion lesser stars, would fly from the backstage door, Fran Dresher or Stacy Keach, having barely enough time to wave hello or sign one or two autographs. But for two nights I watched Gabriel Byrne, not just with myself or the other girls on the forum but with everyone, from well dressed theater patrons, to Gab groupies, to the crazy street people that were obviously only out of the asylum for a few hours. He never lost his patience or his interest for anyone that was a legitimate fan. No matter how many people asked him ridiculous questions or rattled off stories of their uninteresting lives, he listened with enthusiasm and answered with kindness and honesty. No matter how many fans insisted he sign his name on their programs, even if a fan asked for 3 and 4 signatures, he did it with a smile on his face. He gave out kisses upon request; he posed for pictures, one after the other after the other. And he didnt do it because he liked the crowds, he is obviously uncomfortable with the throngs of people rushing him every night.  No he did it because he still cant quite believe its all happened to him.  He still doesn’t take any of it for granted, he is still humble and gracious and grateful for the life he has been able to carve out for himself. None of what I’ve just said really illustrates his kindness adequately until you watch him doing it live.  He is genuinely a man who loves humanity and people. 

I knew this weekend was going to be extraordinary but I didn’t realize it would affect me this much. I feel embarrassed to admit that having spent a few moments in his presence, all in the world I want now is more. That’s the saddest, most embarrassing part of it, I want to sit and talk about anything and everything with him for hours and days, not just for a few fleeting moments standing on a street corner. The question that whispers itself over and over in my head now: Was that it? Was that my one and only chance to speak with him, see him up close, exchange words with him?  As brief as these tiny moments were, I feel such an attachment to him, I know it’s bit melodramatic, but it feels like my best friend in the world just said goodbye forever and waltzed right out of my life for good.

I miss him already.

I’m sure this will pass, I’ll settle back into my normal life and get back into my routine of exchanging a comment or two with the girls here in the forum, renting a movie here and there, watching the occasional interview and waiting eagerly for the day when and if “In Treatment” starts back up.  I feel so very privileged to have finally met this wonderful man, but its hard right now, desperately difficult not to feel sad about being on the backside of this glorious and memorable weekend.