Does this have a happy ending?
I have had the express honor of being able to spend several hours on Sunday with Seth. Just Seth. A Mommy and Seth Day.
He and I floated in our little pool for a while. Then we took off for the movies and saw Brave in 3D. If you haven't seen it, its fantastic. And while I'm not necessarily a huge 3D fan (I tend to get motion sick from it), this movie was strikingly beautiful and the 3D just made it more so. The forest scenes and landscapes look like living, breathing things. The moss was gently moving in the breeze, the tiny buds on the trees were glistening and the fog lifting from the floor of a Scotland glen were just stunning. The story was awesome as well.
The movie is billed as a sort of girl power thing and they show Merida with her bow and arrow a lot. That's part of it, but really its a story about the relationship between a mother and daughter. The father is funny and comedic fodder, but what you are watching on the screen is a young girl who wants something different than what her mother wants for her. A universal story. This one is told with a gentleness we mere humans lack so often. Oh, to be scripted pixels in the matter of raising daughters. That would certainly be easier than navigating this treacherous terrain without a compass or map wouldn't it?
At one point, there is an all-out battle on the screen. The mother is protecting her daughter with a terryfying ferocity, claws and fangs are gnashing and Seth leaned over to me and whispered, "Does this movie have a happy ending?" I whispered back, "Yes, it will."
I couldn't help but think back to my teen years and the torture I had put my own mom through. I was pretty typical in my blundering, rude, selfish years. I took things for granted. I was given an awful lot by both of my parents, but it was my mom who would sew costumes for weeks on end while I stomped around the house like a spoiled brat. I hated costume fittings and I was so focused on my own "misery" I lacked the ability to notice that it was my mom doing all the work. By hand no less. And we're not talking a tap and ballet costume, we're talking 15, 16 or more costumes that needed major stuff work done usually in only a couple weeks' time. And there I would be, bitching and moaning about the process as if my mom were forcing this on me. God I deserved a slap.
And so, in that slice of life from my terrible teens, there was a pattern: I acted like a teenager and somehow I survived to tell the tale.
On Thursday I went to the Berkshires with my mom. A mere 23 years after my last costume fitting, and were off to spend an evening together, just the two of us. We went to see The Blue Deep at Williamstown Theatre Festival. I was reviewing the play for In the Spotlight, Inc. We went the long way (Berkshire Theatre Festival is not the same as Williamstown. In fact, one is in Lenox and the other... well that's in Williamstown.) and stopped at the Red Lion Inn (which is not on the way to Williamstown) for some delicious wine, cheese, shrimp and other yummy stuff. And then we sat in a theatre and watched Blythe Danner work absolute magic for two hours. The play was about a mother and a daughter reconnected, trying to find themselves and each other after the death of their husband and father.
It was incredibly painful and honest and brutal and beautiful. I remember at one point wanting so badly to lean over to her and ask, "Does this have a happy ending?"
I knew it would without having to ask. I knew because mothers, whether on a stage or screen or sitting next to you, will have nothing less than a happy ending for their children. At least those of us given the chance to make one happen.
 |
| Seth being himself |
He and I floated in our little pool for a while. Then we took off for the movies and saw Brave in 3D. If you haven't seen it, its fantastic. And while I'm not necessarily a huge 3D fan (I tend to get motion sick from it), this movie was strikingly beautiful and the 3D just made it more so. The forest scenes and landscapes look like living, breathing things. The moss was gently moving in the breeze, the tiny buds on the trees were glistening and the fog lifting from the floor of a Scotland glen were just stunning. The story was awesome as well.
The movie is billed as a sort of girl power thing and they show Merida with her bow and arrow a lot. That's part of it, but really its a story about the relationship between a mother and daughter. The father is funny and comedic fodder, but what you are watching on the screen is a young girl who wants something different than what her mother wants for her. A universal story. This one is told with a gentleness we mere humans lack so often. Oh, to be scripted pixels in the matter of raising daughters. That would certainly be easier than navigating this treacherous terrain without a compass or map wouldn't it?
At one point, there is an all-out battle on the screen. The mother is protecting her daughter with a terryfying ferocity, claws and fangs are gnashing and Seth leaned over to me and whispered, "Does this movie have a happy ending?" I whispered back, "Yes, it will."
I couldn't help but think back to my teen years and the torture I had put my own mom through. I was pretty typical in my blundering, rude, selfish years. I took things for granted. I was given an awful lot by both of my parents, but it was my mom who would sew costumes for weeks on end while I stomped around the house like a spoiled brat. I hated costume fittings and I was so focused on my own "misery" I lacked the ability to notice that it was my mom doing all the work. By hand no less. And we're not talking a tap and ballet costume, we're talking 15, 16 or more costumes that needed major stuff work done usually in only a couple weeks' time. And there I would be, bitching and moaning about the process as if my mom were forcing this on me. God I deserved a slap.
And so, in that slice of life from my terrible teens, there was a pattern: I acted like a teenager and somehow I survived to tell the tale.
On Thursday I went to the Berkshires with my mom. A mere 23 years after my last costume fitting, and were off to spend an evening together, just the two of us. We went to see The Blue Deep at Williamstown Theatre Festival. I was reviewing the play for In the Spotlight, Inc. We went the long way (Berkshire Theatre Festival is not the same as Williamstown. In fact, one is in Lenox and the other... well that's in Williamstown.) and stopped at the Red Lion Inn (which is not on the way to Williamstown) for some delicious wine, cheese, shrimp and other yummy stuff. And then we sat in a theatre and watched Blythe Danner work absolute magic for two hours. The play was about a mother and a daughter reconnected, trying to find themselves and each other after the death of their husband and father.
 |
| My mom being herself |
It was incredibly painful and honest and brutal and beautiful. I remember at one point wanting so badly to lean over to her and ask, "Does this have a happy ending?"
I knew it would without having to ask. I knew because mothers, whether on a stage or screen or sitting next to you, will have nothing less than a happy ending for their children. At least those of us given the chance to make one happen.
Jenn, this is another beautiful post. We are really blessed to have a Mom like ours.
ReplyDeleteIncredibly well-written and thought provoking, Jenn. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteIncredibly beautiful and thought provoking, Jenn. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDelete