There's nothing like a movie with a Van Morrison song behind the title. I will always, without doubt, watch the movie, and if I'm lucky enough to have my husband with me, dance to the music when the credits roll. This has been something that we've done since we met in 1988. That's a long time to be dancing to movie credits. But there is nothing like a Van Morrison to bring nostalgia, romance, and sadness. I can watch the same movie over and over and over... and inevitably, I cry at the same time. And of course, there is Van. Coming right along behind those credits. But there my husband is, sweatshirt, socks, cute in a dorky kind of way, waiting to dance because that's what we've done for 21 years.
This week a woman I that I only knew for five years lost her husband of many years. He was a young man, only 46, and they were a very close couple. They had no children, and were each others best friends, in a way that was different from those of us who have children. They didn't seem to have find each other after raising children, they just seemed to have that continuium. They just seem to have that relationship that continued on after the romance of their early years. Perhaps the romance continued on past the dating stage. They just always seemed to be together. I'm sure they had their differences, as all people -- even roommates -- do. Now, tonight, I think of her, as she must grieve her loss. I ache for her, and wish that I could ease the pain that I can only imagine she must feel.
Tonight a movie with a Van Morrison title caught my eye, and of course, I convinced my husband that we should watch it. Have we watched it? No less than ten times? But what's another time on a lazy Friday night... actually, early a Saturday night? So, we watched the movie, and of course, we danced because it is what we do... and it eases whatever the day may have brought on. It sweeps away the differences... even if the differences weren't between he and I, but between myself and the kids, or the guinea pigs, or the horses, or the dishwasher, washing machine.. well, you get the point.
So tonight, at 2:21 am, I am grieving the loss of a gentle soul, and the terrible grief his partner must feel. It heightens my awareness of my love for my husband, who can drive me crazy like no one else -- but can make me laugh like no one else. It makes me want to write down all the things I think I might not get to say to my girls... Like kiss your babies on their lips -- there is no sweetness that will ever match that. Rock them, swaying, making nonsense sing songy lullabies.. .because ultimately it's your voice that will sing them to sleep, no matter what the pain. Always open the door for someone -- whomever it is. Always offer to carry the bags for someone -- regardless of the gender or age. Kindness has no boundaries. Let your children sit in your laps until you are there no more. Force them to sit in your laps even when they are hysterically laughing teenagers, just to remind them that you are always there to catch them. Climb in bed with your children to say goodnight-- at all ages. At some age, they will slip away to go to bed and you will miss that moment before sleep when they are most apt to open up to you about their days, their thoughts, fears, worries, and joys. Kiss their soft cheeks -- whether they are 3, 8, or 18, even, 38. Let them know that it's okay to laugh, cry, and giggle...Regardless, you'll always be around to laugh, cry and giggle with.
Tonight I went to the grocery store with my almost 13 year old. The young man who bagged our groceries chattered on and on. It was obvious it was not me he was trying to impress. Yet, here was this young, innocent 12 1/2 year old girl walking alongside me. I'm not sure if she noticed, but she pretended that she didn't. For a short period there was a freshness in the air, a sense of hope. Not between these two young people, but that sense of hope that lingers between people who are happy, at that moment, and can be relieved of whatever may weigh heavy on them. Do I think an encounter with a bagger at the grocery store will shift your life? No. Do I think it will provide you with a giggle? A laugh? Even a relief to not have to lift the groceries into the car? Absolutely.
So, if you cannot dance to the credits. Make sure you get the little stuff along the way occasionally. Watch a new mother. And if you see a new mother -- or an old mother -- struggling with her child, offer to help. Offer to lend hand. "What can I do to make your life easier right now?" goes so much further, than those judging glances, or even worse, those steps that just echo as they walk by the mother struggling. Laugh -- make light of it. Tell them you've been there -- and if you haven't, remember that you've had bad days. Offer to help, in whatever way you can. Sometimes a smile goes so far.
Perhaps there's somone who hasn't had children and never wanted to have children. But my guess is that they have always wanted a smile, and can always share a laugh over something. Everyone can use a bit of spirit in between the rest of the crap of the day. No one wants to feel alone, so never underestimate the small efforts that you make. You will be surprised how far that goes, somewhere along the line.
So the basics... dance to the credits if it's romance. If it's action -- have another glass of wine, and then giggle and dance. Kiss your babies lips. "Chew" on their chins because there is no other laughter than a babies. But there is no other safety than being in the arms of someone who has been there. Who has seen you at your best, your middle, and surely, your worst. If it's a girlfriend, a sister, a mom, father, or husband. There is nothing like the connection to another human spirit. Never underestimate what a human connection, even just verbal, can do.
Dance to the credits -- with someone, or alone. There is nothing like it. Maybe you can't or wouldn't dance to the credits (it's somewhat inappropriate at the grocery store) but make the connection, because that's what we're all here for.
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