My Starring Role

Years ago, I was Marcia Brady and I had two younger sisters, Jan and Cindy. It was the seventies and we were children and we all pretended we were Brady Bunch girls.

Every afternoon, we’d turn on the TV eager to watch the latest Brady Bunch episode or the latest repeat. We must have watched each one a hundred times. We soaked them all up and we longed to be child stars.

Occasionally, I thought I might prefer to be a famous singer rather than a TV child actress. When I wasn’t watching The Brady Bunch, I was absorbed in Johnny Young’s Young Talent Time. I wanted to be in his troop of child performers. I wanted to be Tina Arena, Jane Scali or Sally Boyden.

Some of my friends shared my Young Talent Time ambition. We decided to form a girl band and practice our singing talents. A roaming TV producer might hear about us and come looking. We performed every school lunch time on the concrete slab behind the girls’ toilet block. There were three or four of us. In those days, I was one of the cool kids. We sang and twirled and smiled. We were sensational and life was fun.

I also performed in front of the mirror in our family’s living room with my hairbrush microphone. I swayed from side to side, warbling the latest pop songs. I was fabulous. Such talent. I could hardly wait until I was discovered. One day, someone did discover me. My father. And that was the end of that.

We had a fabulous teacher. “Can we sing a song for the class, Miss D?” Of course, we could. We lined up at the front of the room and sang, and the rest of the class was envious. They all wished they could be part of our girl band.

One day Miss D listened a little closer than usual. She asked all the girls to stop singing except for Leslie. We looked at Leslie. She looked at us. Then she opened her mouth and sang solo. Suddenly I realised something: Leslie could sing and I couldn’t. I’ve often wondered what became of Leslie. Did she actually become famous?

The girl band broke up. The Brady Bunch once again became the centre of our conversation. One day, someone announced, “I heard Cindy died.” Our eyes grew wide. How? “She was in a car accident.” Could it be possible? No more Brady Bunch? Of course, our source of information was unreliable, and Cindy lived on, and so did the Brady Bunch. And so did our dreams.

I never did become a famous child star. Instead, I grew up. I forgot all about The Brady Bunch until Thomas was born.

Seconds after his birth, our sixth child was whisked away to the NICU. I didn’t get a chance to see him. I was transferred to the maternity ward while my baby was hooked up to a life support system. I waited anxiously for news. Did he have enough lung tissue to live? When would I be able to visit my new son? Pierre, the junior doctor, came to give me an update. He walked in and smiled gently, saying, “Congratulations! You have your very own Brady Bunch!” Yes, I had three girls and three boys.

I had my very own Brady Bunch for twenty-eight and a quarter hours. And then Thomas died.

So I ended up being Mrs Brady instead of Marcia Brady, and our first season lasted for just over a day. But what a run we had. A star-studded cast including talented newcomer Thomas Augustine Joseph. Twenty-eight hours on stage. He was nominated for the highest award and he won it: saint.

Funny how things work out. That skinny-legged, freckle-faced girl grew up, and she didn’t find fame and fortune. She couldn’t sing. She couldn’t dance. No one discovered her. That’s not quite right. The love of her life found her.

Together, Andy and I took centre stage where God gave me a starring role: mother. He gave me a very special moment in the spotlight. He didn’t ask me to audition for this part. I didn’t have to line up and prove my worth. No. He just chose me. He knew I could do it.

God made me the mother of a saint.

A couple of years ago, my girls made a music video in the cemetery where Thomas is buried. Imogen sang the song Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again from the musical, The Phantom of the Opera. If you watch, you will see that the girls included Thomas in the video. Our son might have lived for only one day, but he’s part of a music video on Youtube!

Years ago, I sang with the cool kids on the concrete slab behind the girls’ toilet block at school. And now I have a daughter who sings. But, unlike me, Imogen really can sing.  Funny how things turn out.