Fair Warning May Not Be Fair

When I've seen a good movie that has a surprise ending or something bizarre happening that no one would ever figure out from the title, I try hard not to spoil that for anyone else that might consider watching it. I want them to experience the same surprise and emotion that I felt. The feeling of being caught up in the moment and transported to that place in time, is fiction at its best.

However, for someone like me, fair warning that a movie will make me cry, does in effect give me pause when deciding if I want to view it or not. When someone tells me to watch the movie with a lot of Kleenex, I know that something bad is going to happen. I'm not always a very positive person. Yes, the glass IS half-empty. Can't you see that?!

I truly believe that I have probably missed some very good movies just because I was not willing to take the risk. I'm afraid of what it is that is going to make me cry or be sad, I begin wondering. Will it be like "City of Angels" where all of a sudden Meg Ryan is hit by a speeding 18-wheeler while bicycling down a country road, smiling with all the love in her heart for Nicholas Cage? Oh, sorry if that just ruined it for someone. I almost couldn't make it through the rest of the movie. Or will it be horrible still like in "The Green Mile" where the poor weasel-bodied prisoner of a man, who really never hurt anyone, is executed in the cruelest manner so as to make every person in the theater wince in disgust at the sight? Which by the way, sent me out of the theater to wait for an hour on my husband and son to finish the movie without me. Even harder to take are the films that are more like truth than fiction as in "Saving Private Ryan". That was a film I had to watch like taking off a Band-aide. Quickly and without thinking too much about whether to see it or not. From the time the old man went to the cemetery until we figured out the true identity of Private Ryan, I sobbed. That was emotionally draining!

When I know how a movie ends, I seem to worry about just when "the thing" will happen. It makes watching the movie so tedious I have been known to say a pray for God to just let it happen and be over. Such was the case in "The Passion of the Christ". What an emotional roller coaster! We all knew the ending, but I don't think we were prepared for what we'd see in the scenes leading up to the actual crucifixion. It was a mix of horror and disbelief! However, I knew going in that it would be hard to watch. As my husband put it, "it was relentless". I was so relieved when that ride finally came to a halt and I was released back out into my world.

Therefore, when I placed a DVD into the player this afternoon, I did it with a bit of apprehension. It was a flick I've had for a month, but because I was told (by well meaning people) that it would make me cry, I wasn't sure if I wanted to see it or not. My attempts to hide emotion sometimes fail, so I wanted to view the movie in privacy. It was what a lot of men refer to as a "chick-flick". It was a teen chick-flick at that too, so how sad could it be? Right? "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" was a wonderful movie. It did all the things that a good moving story should for me, but most of all it transported me back to being a teenage girl. Different from some teen movies, it did not show the young girls as flippant airheads that only fret over what outfit to wear to the prom. There is a definite message behind the story. The four girls were all a little part of who I think I was and probably still am. So, at the risk of ruining the story for you "chicks", watch it with a box of Kleenex close at hand.

The point behind this entire movie ramble is that once again I am faced with my fear of emotion. One of the characters in the "Traveling Pants" story put it something like this, "...isn't trying not to be sad (about your mother’s death) harder than just letting yourself be sad?" I would have to agree.

Elton L. "Jiggs" Ritchey

Yesterday was December 9 and if my dad were still alive, he would have been 83 years old. I often wonder why my dad didn't live any longer than he did. He would love watching his great grandchildren. He would have such pride in his 3 grandsons and their wives. He was a good man, a loving father and faithful husband to my mother. He was extremely committed to the little church in Port Neches which now does not even exist anymore. He would leave in the middle of the night to go help a widow that was in need. He never tired of work or doing for others.

Well, Daddy, I just want you to know I thought about your birthday as usual. I miss you and wish you were here to celebrate Christmas with us. I still see you laughing at the boys funny antics. You would enjoy watching your two great grandchildren in the same way. They are so cute.

You were always my best cheerleader. You helped me to read, tie my shoelaces and even how to drive a nail into a board. You played in the backyard with me and played guitars and sang with me. You even took me driving when I was 15 years old and Mama was too afraid to do ride with me.

You got tears in your eyes the evening I went on my first date and you cried the night I got married. My favorite wedding photo is of you and mom kissing my cheeks, one on each side.

When your mind began to go, you told me with the same zeal in your voice, about a news article where scientist had found a dinosaur bone...3 times. You walked beside me after Mom's funeral, put your arm around my shoulders and told me that you loved me like a real daughter. Who knows who you thought I was.

I like to see you in my mind the way you are in a photograph taken at my house the first Christmas without mom. You are laughing as Cynthia jokingly put a red Christmas bow on your head. You always loved a good laugh and when you and Cynthia teamed up, you were both hilarious. I hope you and Cynthia are enjoying each other in Heaven.

Keep laughing Daddy. I love you.
Your daughter,
Mary Lou

Holidays

Holidays sure have changed over the past 15 years. Kim and I have gone from buying gifts for a lot of people to buying for just a couple of people. I know a lot of people that would be asking, "Are you complaining?" Well, yes I am. I like a Christmas tree with lots of presents around the bottom. I love the joy of watching everyone tear into a brightly wrapped package with an expectant look of delight. It's fun!

I will say, however, that the best part of Christmas is catching that look of excitment in my grandchild, Aidan's, face. And this year we will get to watch Regan go for all the red and green bows to play with. No matter what you get for an 8 month old, there is nothing better than a bow. Go figure. :-?

Anyway, I'm going to try to make my own Christmas. I want to dress up the house and light some candles and I just might buy more presents this year.

'Tis the season. :-)
Merry Christmas!