Yeah, it's a kid's movie. Yeah, it's animated. And triple yeah, it's got a talking dog named Doug, but I dare you to watch the first ten minutes of this movie without shedding a tear. I remember seeing it in the theater with my kids and totally losing it without an adequate supply of napkins. Heck, my kids watched it so many times when I bought the DVD, but I still couldn't bring myself to watch those first few minutes. Now, I just let myself go there. It's such a beautiful movie. And who doesn't love a talking dog?
Maybe I'm really a kid at heart, but I now find myself loving movies that were made for kids probably more than movies made for adults. And this one, right along with "Finding Nemo" tops my list.
Am I the only adult that enjoys movies made for kids? Tell me your favorites!
Hi there! My name is JT O'Neill and, yes, I do love the androgynous nature of my name. I came of age in the heyday of the peace movement and was forever impacted by that and by the second feminist movement. The newly established Women's Center at San Jose State University in NorCal literally saved my life.
Post college, I pointed myself towards education and have spent about 35 years in either the classroom or in admin in the front office. My official title is guidance counselor in a 500 student K -8 school north of the Golden Gate. I wear many hats - whatever hat is needed at that moment: counselor, nurse, office manager, disciplinarian, yard supervisor, club advisor, entertainer, and on and on. The most important work of my life has been as part of a two person team. This team raised two children who are now in their 20's. Both are compassionate, responsible, and creative adults now and their dad and I are very proud of them.
DW: Who was the person that died?
JT: My father, Robert Paul O'Neill, died very unexpectedly of congestive heart failure at the age of 74.
DW: How old were you at the time?
JT: I was 43 at the time he died.
DW: Did you and your Dad talk about death?
JT: Although we clearly did not talk about his death, I know he thought about death often. He had lost most of his siblings and many friends by the time he died. He was lonely for them, I think.
DW: Had you experienced any other deaths in your personal life before your Dad died?
JT: I lost my two remaining grandparents when I was a teenager. They were not especially warm people and I didn't know them well. The biggest impact on me was that I saw both of my parents shed a tear or two - very little expression of sadness but enough that I was shocked at the tears. There were several other adults in my life who died along the way and their deaths shocked me. The three year old brother of one of my childhood friends died very unexpectedly when I was ten years old. That sadness and empathy for the family stayed with me for years.
DW: Were people supportive of your grief or did they shy away when you were grieving?
JT: When my father died, I was amazed at the outpouring of support from my community.Within my immediate family (siblings, cousins, uncles, aunts), people contacted me about his influence on them and many people stepped up to put their arms around me (literally and figuratively).
DW: Is there anything you wish you'd done differently with your Dad?
JT: I've always wished I could have talked to my dad more but he was of that silent generation. The man was the salt of the earth but he did not talk about his feelings or his memories much. He served in the South Pacific during WW2 and that had a huge impact on him but he didn't want to talk about it. I believe now that he was chronically depressed (and who wouldn't be with the hard life he had lived). He often sat in silence, simply looking out the window, lost in his own mind.
DW: Was he buried or cremated?
JT: He was cremated and his ashes were buried at his home in the hills of Mendocino County, CA.
DW: Did you learn anything about the grieving process that you'd like to share?
JT: I learned how important the messages from family and friends were. Now, when I hear of a death, I try to get something in writing to the grieving family. A few words can be so healing.
DW: Last but not least, were any songs played at the memorial that were important to your Dad?
JT: Taps and Amazing Grace - some other hymns but I don't know them.
I was supposed to interview someone else, someone way more fabulous, but I'm afraid you're stuck with me today. My name is Pamela Skjolsvik and I write. I'm not on the NYT's best seller list. In fact, I have a fairly slim publishing history. And you know what? That's okay. I keep putting myself out there because a.) I'm very persistent and b.) my sensitive, thin writer skin is now becoming thick and calloused. In fact, I laugh at the cool calculated form letters of rejection. Ha!
So anyway, in the past month, most of my writer brain cells have been focused on this blog. I discovered through the A-Z challenge that I kind of like this blogging thing. It's casual. There's no pressure. I don't feel like I have to be smart or profound or have a terrific narrative arc. I just get to be me and connect with people. And sometimes what ends up on this blog means something to someone and let me tell you, that is a WONDERFUL feeling.
But in the past week, things have changed. I sent out my book proposal to an agent and she was kind enough to read it and give me some pointers about how to make it better. So, now I've got to write like my life depends on it and what am I doing? I'm writing this blog. Why?
Because I'm afraid.
I'm afraid that I'm not good enough.
Or smart enough.
And that people won't like me.
FEAR. It is a total and complete bitch. Up until the age of 38, my fear of social situations and meeting new people prevented me from actually living my life. It took going to grad school in a mid-life crisis moment of "what am I going to be when I grow up?" to finally start living. But I had to look at death to do that. Funny how that worked. Oh, and I also went to therapy after that whole death trip. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is wonderful if you're afraid to walk into a party and not be a wine swilling dip clinger. (and yes, wine swilling dip clinger just popped out of my head and I ran with it. Say it three times fast!)
So, next week, I'll have my regularly scheduled writer on here. I will have my proposal done or pretty close to being done. And I will kick fear's ass to the curb. Kinda like Ripley in the power loader.
So, what are you doing this week? Going to the beach? Reading a good book? Fighting aliens in your mind? Tell me.
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