Tuesday Movies

Well, it certainly has been awhile since I posted on the blog.  Death can make doing the little things in life a little more difficult than usual.  But, here I am.  In the past week, I've seen two movies and both of them contain death.  I'm still recovering from the one I saw yesterday.

Okay, so what did I see?  First up was "Warm Bodies," which kind of sounds like an R rated film, but I took both of my kids to see it.  My tween daughter loved it and my son thought it was okay.  I think there was a little too much romance for his taste.  So, what's it about?  Well, we have a post-apocalyptic story line, we have zombies and we have two ill fated lovers.  I've read reviews that liken the film to a retelling of Romeo and Juliet, which I guess is possible, but it's a VERY loose interpretation at best.  One of the lovers is a zombie and his love for a girl begins to make him human again.  In other words, love can save the world.  It was cute and funny, but it's definitely a flick you can see on your very own TV and not feel like you've missed out on anything by not seeing it in the theater.  Here's the trailer...

Yesterday I saw "Django Unchained," which is definitely something you want to see on the big screen.  Like all Tarantino films, I had to watch a lot of it between splayed fingers.  The dude makes me uncomfortable, but he also writes interesting story lines and characters, so it's the price I have to pay for watching his films.  There has been much in the press about the use of the N word in this film.  Yes, it made me uncomfortable, but I think that's the point.  I realize this movie is a work of fiction, but it's about the horrors of slavery and I personally think it's important that we don't sugar coat the past to make it palatable for modern day society.  What do you think?

And then it hit me...

Today was the last day of the estate sale where we sold the rest of my mother-in-law's things after all of the siblings took what was meaningful to them.  And let me tell you, there was still a lot of stuff for sale.  I don't think I was emotionally prepared for yesterday.  The sale started at 8.  I was there at 8:05 and the street was packed with parked cars and tons of people in a mad rush to score a treasure.  I couldn't deal with the throngs of people, so I spent most of the day hauling more stuff out of the house and onto the driveway.  About two hours in, I started weeping in her empty living room.  I felt so overwhelmed by it all.  Nobody cared that she was an excellent gardener or photographer or knitter or seamstress or that she could bake a mean cookie or that she loved coffee, Dr. Oz, Martha Stewart or a good biography.  They just wanted to walk away with something for a dollar or fifty cents.  And it made me really freakin' sad. Ironically, she hated having garage sales, but boy did she have a successful one.  I don't think I've ever seen so many people.

Today, I was consolidating things and digging through boxes to tidy up the tables and I came across a white folder at the bottom of a box.  There were several pictures from her life, including what is now my favorite picture of her and my husband.  They are in the hills of Marin County.  Erik looks about thirteen.  The wind is blowing furiously in their hair and they are both looking out through the lenses of their cameras as someone takes a photo of them.  It captures her spirit and the gift that she gave her offspring.  She was a teacher who taught all of her children to appreciate beauty and nature and taking their time to do things right. What a gift!

By the end of the day, we were telling the odd sprinkling of people to take what they wanted for free.  I think she would have liked that.  And it was funny, these people didn't just load up their boxes with whatever they could pick, they took their time and selected items that they liked.  I think she would appreciate that.  She was a generous spirit.  In a way, I hope she was there these past two days watching the goings on of her earthly things and how they were taking up residence in other people's houses and apartments. Her things would live on!  But, mostly, I hope that she will go freak out the person who stole the leaf blower and the lady who kept stuffing items in her ginormous purse.  I was too much of a chicken to call her on it.  Those two should be ashamed of themselves.

I'm pooped, emotionally and physically.  I don't think I want to do another garage sale for at least 50 years.  Hopefully, I won't have to.

Out With the Old...

In the weeks following my mother-in-law's death, we had to go through all of her stuff and figure out how to divide the various possessions among her children. This has been emotionally taxing for several reasons.  For one, she had a lot of stuff.  Two, people assign sentimental attachments to certain objects.  And three, death makes people act sort of weird. Out of fairness to my husband's family, I won't go into it, but I'm fairly certain that this isn't the first family to get sort of wacky when it comes to a lamp or a pair of slippers, or an old piece of furniture.

It's just stuff.

I for one am quite tired of stuff.  In fact, I spent the last three hours putting together a pile of stuff of my own to bring to the Goodwill tomorrow.  Out with the old and to heck with the new. I don't need more stuff.  Okay, I take that back.  I might like to get some new pillows, towels and a bedspread, but I definitely don't need any doo-hicky's or knick-knacks or spices or jars or sweaters or anything else that I'll wear once and throw on the floor of my closet to collect dust.

I'm a pretty simple type of person.  I will wear the same five shirts for six months, the same shoes, the same purse and feel good that my clothing choices are simple.  Life is too short to worry if this shirt matches with this pair of shoes or if this purse matches this lipstick.  I've got bigger fish to fry.

So, today is one of my least favorite days of the year because it's loaded with expectation.  I used to think that I was supposed to have some sort of grand time because it's the end of the year.  Or I'd get all melancholy because I didn't achieve all those resolutions that I wrote down in a drunken stupor the year before.

This year, I'm going to take one of those jars that my mother-in-law saved and I'm going to write one good thing that happened each day and put it in the jar.  It could be as simple as "I woke up."  Or it could be "I got a piece accepted today."  Or "My husband told me he loved me."  Or "My hair looked really good today."  Whatever.  Next December 31, I''ll break open the dang jar and read about all the good stuff that happened.  Because, really, it's the little things in life.

And as U2 said so long ago...nothing changes on New Year's Day.