“Not in Assisted Living (Yet): Dispatches from the Edge of Independence!

Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean
Showing posts with label Brad Pitt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brad Pitt. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

The Rhythms of LIfe, Fly Fishing and Widowhood


What follows in a movie "review" I wrote for one of my top all-time five favorite movies. At first you might not see its relationship to widowhood---and maybe it's an obscure stretch for me to say it has one. However, it definitely has something to do with accepting the rhythms of life---birth, death and everything in between.

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Robert Redford, director and voice-over narrator of the film, A River Runs Through It, says near the beginning of the movie: “My father was very sure about certain matters pertaining to the universe. To him, all good things---trout as well as eternal salvation---came by grace; and grace comes by art; and art does not come easy.” As films go, this one is a masterpiece with Oscar award winning cinematography and with spoken language that closely follows the autobiography on which the film is based.

For anyone who hasn’t seen this 1992 movie, it’s a story of two sons growing up in the same house with their Presbyterian minister father in rural Montana, in the early 1900s, but with different results. One takes the path of vice and personal destruction while the other brother becomes a professor of literature in Chicago. It’s a story about the unconditional love between brothers and a father and their mutual love of fly fishing that binds them together. It’s no accident that many parallels between the art of fly fishing and the rhythms of life are carefully drawn into the texture of this favorite film of mine.

I’m not a fly fisherman---though I’ve done a bit of it growing up in the summers on a lake---but there is one fly casting scene in this movie that is a spiritual experience just to watch. In the scene Brad Pitt, who plays one of the sons, is fly fishing in the Big Blackfoot River, in total communication with nature, using an artful casting rhythm that has far advantaged beyond the four count rhythm of a metronome that his father had taught him as a child. And watching this scene---the morning sun dancing on the greenery and bubbling blue water, the sounds of nature blending with the casting rhythms as his fly tempts the trout to the surface---you understand the reverence this film is trying to convey about the relationship between religion and art. The art of doing something well after years of practice---of creating something from nothing---and knowing that it’s only through the grace of God that we humans are able to find our passion in life and that is something few of us appreciate the way we should.

Grace is my favorite word in the English language. My Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary defines ‘grace’ this way: Unmerited divine assistance given to man for his regeneration…” I see grace in my life in simple things like being born into a family that nurtured its children and in the fact that I was born in a place and time where there were opportunities for women. I see grace in the angry storm that passes without damage, or in the car accident that I’m able to avoid. I see grace in the fact that we find people to love. And especially in the fact that people find creative activities that we can get passionate about, that regenerate our spirits and souls. Fly fishing, baking bread, gardening, painting---there are many art forums that we can practice to perfection and find that kind of regeneration of spirit in the doing.

But life is also about choices---about choosing between living on the edge or living within the circle of rightness. Two brothers grow up with the same opportunities and love from their parents. One grows into a responsible adult and as an elderly man, writes a story about his brother who took a different path and died young. Not exactly Cain and Able but none the less A River Runs Through It is a movie with the same message. Choice and grace---man has been enjoying from them both since the beginning of our place on earth. The waters flow. The flowers grow and man comes and goes as the basement of time keeps the rhythm of life as each generation finds what ever it is that speaks to their souls.

The last lines of the movie are spoken in a voice-over by Mr. Redford, words written by Norman Maclean: “….when I am alone in the half light of the canyon all existence seems to fade to a being with my soul, and memories. And the sounds of the Big Black Foot River, and a four count rhythm, and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs….” ©

Thursday, August 2, 2012

When Are You Getting Married Again, Widow Lady?

An old friend the other day asked me if I’m going to get married again. The question annoyed the heck out of me and it felt like an invasion of privacy especially since he asked it in front a third person I barely know. It took years to builds the kind of relationship Don and I had and I’m not interested in getting married again just to have another warm body in the house. But I tried not to let my annoyance show when I replied, “No.” Evidently that wasn’t a good enough answer because the next words out of his mouth were: “What’s the matter, once was enough?” I wasn’t sure how to take that second question and when I answered I felt like I was speaking the last lines in the movie, Secondhand Lions. I repeated my answer twice with an entirely different inflection the second time. In the movie the sheik’s great-grandson had asked, “These two men from your grandfather's stories, they really lived?” to which the adult Walter (played by John Lucas) answered, “They really lived.” Then a smile spread wide across on his face and he repeated, "Yeah, they really LIVED.”

“Once was enough,” is what I told my prying friend followed by, “Ya, once REALLY was enough.” I doubt my answer adequately expressed how I felt---Lucas got to rehearse his delivery and my smile was forced---but I couldn’t help thinking about it on the way home. Do people really think you can replace a 42 year long relationship so easily and be thinking about doing it when you’re only six months out from your spouse’s passing? Coming from an old friend the question hurt and it accented the fact that Don was the only person on the face of the earth who truly knew me---how I think, what my weaknesses and strengths are and how I hate being put on the spot in front of strangers.

Get married again? Not without a waterboarding, a case of amnesia or a proposal from Matthew McConaughey and Brad Pitt on the same day. Matthew or Brad? Yup, that choice might entice me to give up my plans for a new life filled with over-indulging in artsy-fartsy activities and Scottie Dogs Licorice, but no man in my age bracket could. If my friend picked up on my annoyance of his marriage questions, he probably would say I was being hyper-sensitive. Widows get accused of that all the time but, to me, asking a question like that was akin to asking an amputee if he’s going to get a new arm. I always think of good answers like that hours after it’s too late to deliver them. Now I’m prepared for the next getting-married-again question that comes my way. I will use a reply borrowed from another widow: “I don’t need to get married again; I got it right the first time.”

Having vented what I wanted to in the above paragraphs I realized this blog entry was too short. So I consulted my friend Google to find a quote to go with it. What I found along the way was directions for “how to marry a widow.” I kid you not. There really is a page at eHow with that title. Step one, it says: proceed with caution. You think? I find that amusing and wonder why that step doesn’t apply to all people getting married. Do people really throw caution to the winds when they get married the first time? No one could ever say that about Don and me. We dated forever first. Though I guess I understand the point of step one. It means proceed with caution because you’d be marrying the widow’s family as well as the widow…and let’s not forget that ghost hanging over her shoulder. ©


"Lost love is still love,” Eddie from the book The Five People You Meet in Heaven said. 
“It just takes a different form, that's all.
You can't hold their hand, you can't tousle their hair.
But when those senses weaken, another one comes to life.
 Memory.
Memory becomes your partner, you hold it, you dance with it.
 Life has to end, Eddie, Love doesn't."