I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD SLAPS, SPEED BUMPS and LIGHTBULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.




Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Zzzzzz's memories



As I do when I get the chance, which is pretty much never, I claimed the couch for a nap this afternoon. To lull me to sleep I searched for a movie to fill the empty house with familiar dialogue; it helps to lull me to sleep. If it’s a movie I’ve never seen, it keeps me awake, if it’s one I love like a favorite dessert, I sleep because I do not have to watch to enjoy, I only have to listen and remember. Baby Boom with Diane Keaton was my HBO afternoon nap-classic today.

My daughters and I have watched that movie so many times, we know the dialogue. The whole message of the movie regarding a woman’s roll in life as a wife and mother and as a career woman, is required watching for females. What I remember most about the movie is the first time we watched it.

My oldest daughter was about four when we watched that first time. At the ending, while the credits rolled, my daughter climbed up onto the coffee table and launched herself into my arms. We danced around the living room to the wonderful Bacharach music. It was a stunning mother daughter moment my daughter comments on whenever Baby Boom is mentioned. Today I watched the movie through fluttering eyelids and when the ending came I was sitting up and bawling. That little girl who held onto me so tightly that day as we danced is twenty-eight now. Where has the time gone? Why did it have to pass so quickly?

What movie brings you to tears?

2 comments:

  1. Many actually. However a mother daughter moment in You've Got Mail where Meg Ryan is remembering twirling in the bookstore with her mother.

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  2. Aw...You've Got Mail was on last weekend. I love, love, love that movie.

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