I just watched the film “The Other Woman” with Natalie
Portman and Lisa Kudrow. I had no
idea that Phoebe from “Friends” could be such a raging bitch. I was totally intrigued by her
painfully difficult relationship with her son’s step-monster, well-played by
Portman. But shortly after that
storyline wrangled me in like the Octomom herding her pack, the film took a
dark turn. I balled my eyes out not
only for the duration of the movie, but for at least an hour afterwards, until a
xanax and a hot shower were self-prescribed.
I’m not one to push spoilers, but seeing as the movie came out
two years ago, whatever... Someone
dies.
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| (here's Pheebs as she learns what really happens at the end of 'Old Yeller') |
I have dealt with a lot of loss, as most of us have. But who's to say one experience is worse than the other? I remember an old friend that would
reference a day being “the worst of her life” when she had to dedicate more
than a few hours to studying after arguing with her boyfriend. To me, comparing this to my worst day made
hers look like a walk through a Louis Vuitton full of freebies. Thankfully I realize now that each of
us has our own gauge for processing loss, and however difficult, we shouldn’t
judge because of it.
Which brings me to totally judging this quote from Winnie the Pooh…
It has always really bothered me, and here’s why.
Many years ago, my parents strolled a beautiful cemetery in
order to purchase a family plot, knowing that my father would make use of it
long before anyone else. My dad
suggested checking out the mausoleum, to which my mother replied, “I don’t want
to be in a mausoleum because I want you to be able to plant daffodils when you
visit me”.
My father was dying of brain and bone cancer. They both knew full well she would be
the one visiting him, but even just for a moment, she didn’t want him to look at it that way.
I wasn’t there when the conversation happened but have
always remembered the story as one of my mother’s most loving and selfless
moments.
None of us want to think about the ones we love leaving us,
but to put the burden of dealing with that loss upon ourselves, to hope that they leave us before we leave them, that is an ultimate act of love.
Granted, we have little control over whether we live to be
one hundred, or one hundred minus one day, but I believe that if you truly love
someone, you want to be the one who lasts the extra few hours.
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| oops..... |
