Monday, July 29, 2013

Catching Up with the Classics

I haven't watched that many movies or listened to that much music, really. I've read a lot of books but a good part of the time I've chosen quantity over quality, because I frequently read to ignore the world and that's easiest done with trash.

In the last one week I watched two movies I wish I'd seen before. What I found most remarkable in Sleepless in Seattle was the easy, normal relationship that the father had with his son. Not once did I see him tell the kid the words everybody seems to say so easily these days, "It'll be OK, I promise." (On what basis does anybody ever make that promise? How is it comforting?) He scolded the kid, looked after him, tried to figure out his needs and wants and clearly his son meant the world to him, but the kid never ruled his life. It just felt more like a parent-child relationship as I understand it than anything else I watch on TV these days.

This evening I finally saw Jerry Maguire. And yeah, I finally got the hype. It's not Tom Cruise that spoke to me, but some very well-written dialogue.


Why is it so hard for some people to just count their blessings and be grateful? Why must they actually want more? Why must I actually want more? How dared I ask for more?


Anonymous said...

yup, me doing a lot of thinking on this one lately as I decide what I want to be remembered as by my son.(I have a very invasive, fast progressing terminal cancer thingie going on,...hence, the haste).

I've mostly been a slightly neurotic, always romanticizing life(and therefore reality never quite doing it for me) types, absent minded albeit caring, good provider(food on time, nice clothes to wear, good music and movies to watch with) mum to him.

Good enough some would say but I know better mums(more involved, more goal oriented for themselves and the child etc etc) than me, hence the soul searching and guilt tripping. Well, pat yourself on the back, yours is still younger than mine and you're already such an evolved mum/thinker/doer. He's lucky and I'm sure you are too, to have him.

You write well Sue. Very well.


Sue said...

Deepa -- I am sure that your son will remember how much you loved him. They all do, no matter how little they admit it. I wish you every joy in the time you have left.