Enjoying Movies and Family While Grieving
There are few things that I love more than a good movie. I taught my children to enjoy this as much as I did when I was little. My father, mother, and I would curl up with my three brothers to sit in front of the couch and around it, wrapped in thick plushy blankets. My favorites were the old black and white films. I know that I'm supposed to be too young to know who Cary Grant and Gregory Peck are, but the fact is that they're some of my favorite actors.
When I had kids of my own a couple years ago, twin boys, I might add, I looked forward to sharing these movies with them. Sure, they're not going to love Arsenic and Old Lace as much as I, but they will enjoy We're No Angels. But then everything changed. Both my parents died in a car accident. Drunk driver. You know the story.
It was back almost a year ago. The strange thing is that part of me just doesn't want to accept that it could have happened. I don't want to believe it. I want them back. Admitting that makes me feel strangely emotional, but I know it's good to get it all out.
Their death did bring about one change though. I stopped watching movies. I packed up all the blankets. In fact, in a moment of stupidity, I gave away all of the blankets my folks and I used to use for movie nights. It seemed like a sane thing. You know, someone else might as well enjoy them and all that good stuff. Now I miss them.
I know, this is probably seeming like a real downer of a post. I promise it's going to get better. See, one evening, I just started crying, and my husband saw me. I was holding the kids in my arms and just started having a good cry. The cleansing kind. Well, Samson decided that I needed something to get me through this time.
Just yesterday, he surprised me with a package. "Open it," he said with that charming smile.
Of course, when I did, I started sobbing again. It was a big thick fluffy blanket with pictures from my childhood on it. My mother, father, brothers, and me all sat on the blanket in our various adventures. The blanket was soft and plushy just like my favorite blanket when I was a kid. When I buried my face in it, I could imagine that I was back there with them.
"I thought you could use something special," he said. Then he hugged me.
Yes, I married a wonderful man. Apparently, he got in my scrap book and pulled out some of my favorite pictures. He then went to a site called Vision Bedding where he put together a collage of these pictures to have printed on a blanket. I can't tell you how blessed I am.
My little boys are too young to understand the significance. All they know is that tonight, Mommy has promised them a movie with a big fuzzy blanket. I'm not quite sure what we'll watch yet. Maybe a Cary Grant. Maybe the classic Robin Hood. All's I know is that when life is frustrating and saddening that these little moments make it all better. I'm so thankful for a husband who understands.