oscar night

My dad said that if he won he would’ve said “Get to bed Gilly, it’s way past your bed time,” while holding his Oscar with pride.
I’ll never forget the year my dad was nominated for an Oscar.
He was up for best sound mixer for the movie Unforgiven.
It was the most glamourous I’d ever see my parents, and I still love to pull out the photo of my dad in an expensive tuxedo, my mom in a floor length gown with her hair in big loose curls. I always thought they looked like movie stars.
My mom says I remember the pure unadulterated luxury of all, feeling as if Rob and I were in some extravagant Hollywood movie.
I saw him for a split second on the red carpet. No one else saw it, but when we rewinded it to see it I was right.

Apparently their limousine didn’t arrive so Morgan Freeman invited them to share his. My mom couldn’t stop smiling. Freeman left the limo first and the crowd went wild. They followed him up the red carpet with Jan Fonda just ahead, Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins following behind.
My dad didn’t win that night, but he brought home a chocolate Oscar and was still a winner to us. I remember bringing a piece of that chocolate Oscar to school wrapped up in saran wrap.
My mom says my dad was relieved he didn’t have to go on stage, and that he knew that simply being nominated by his peers at the Academy was honour enough. She said he was happy to leave the glitz and the glamour and slip into his Berkinstocks.
My dad doing a radio interview in LA

That’s why I love my dad. I grew up knowing he was good at what he did. Every morning he would be up at the crack of dawn, his big work van filled with sound equipment warming up in the driveway while it was still dark outside.
He’d usually come back when I was already in bed. But he would leave sweet treats under my pillow so that I knew he cared. When he got off early one day he showed up to my gymnastics recital to surprise me.
I loved visiting him on film sets. Cast and crew would always come up to me and tell me how much they loved my dad. Even with the long hours he always had a good sense of humor and did his job well.
That year was his big break. He didn’t need a gold Oscar to know how important it was, he’d already won. He put in the time, effort and skill.
Tonight we got together at a friend’s house. A feast was made and I made big bowls of gourmet popcorn, one salty, one sweet, and we took in the show.

My dad sat quietly, still humble, knowing how close he came but just as happy to be sitting comfortably with a home cooked meal surrounded by those who love him.













































