My mother got good news from her doctor. Thank goodness, the business with her throat has NOT resulted in cancer. I am so relieved … and grateful. My concern now, of course, is that since she doesn't have cancer now, she will believe this means smoking hasn't harmed her and there is no need to quit.
I have never been a smoker, so I simply do not understand how such a filthy, smelly, expensive habit can be so pleasurable that she's willing to risk her life for it. I realize that women of my mother's generation began smoking so they could look sophisticated, like Lauren Bacall. But we have known the hazards of smoking since the 1960s. She has had decades to quit. Yet she can't/won't.
In fairness to her, I must report that she has gone from a pack/day to just 3 or 4 cigarettes a day. But over the space of a year, that's more than 1,200 cigarettes, with smoke and carcinogens traveling down her poor old esophagas. Yet she won't quit. I find this unutterably sad.
Oh well. I realize that what I am dealing with here is really not unique. Coping with our parents' mortality is something we will all have to face. And I imagine it's just this crappy for everyone.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Visiting with Katie and Hubbell
I am watching "The Way We Were" again for the 3,000,000th time. I know every scene, and can recite much of the dialog verbatim. And yet here I am watching ... again. Almost unable to look away.
Why do some movies have such a hold on our imaginations? Yes, the stars help. The 1970s were The Golden Age of The Golden Boy, with Redford looking impossibly gorgeous. And activism and involvement has seldom had a more poignant spokeswoman than Streisand, whose longing (for justice, for a better world, for more time in his arms) is so achingly real.
And I was so young and impressionable when I saw this for this first time. In my adolescence I wanted to believe in a world where, no matter how strident or unconventional I was, I could still come home and find a terrifically fabulous sailor nude in my bed. It's only through repeated viewings that I have noticed that my life has imitated this particular piece of art in subtle ways. (My inability to "leave the soapbox at home" has damaged a relationship or two.) Unfortunately none of these ways included a blond, blue-eyed Adonis.
Movies race by faster when you're this familiar with the content. You'd think it would be the opposite, that the pace would seem slower and that you'd be bored. But no, it moves faster. This is not the only time I've noticed this strange compression of time. After midnight time seems to race, too. I can be doing something at 1:30, look at the clock a little bit later and will be shocked to discover it's 3:00 already.
Gotta go. Katie is about to explain to Hubbell why it must be exciting to be stationed in Washington. ("Because Roosevelt is there!")
Why do some movies have such a hold on our imaginations? Yes, the stars help. The 1970s were The Golden Age of The Golden Boy, with Redford looking impossibly gorgeous. And activism and involvement has seldom had a more poignant spokeswoman than Streisand, whose longing (for justice, for a better world, for more time in his arms) is so achingly real.
And I was so young and impressionable when I saw this for this first time. In my adolescence I wanted to believe in a world where, no matter how strident or unconventional I was, I could still come home and find a terrifically fabulous sailor nude in my bed. It's only through repeated viewings that I have noticed that my life has imitated this particular piece of art in subtle ways. (My inability to "leave the soapbox at home" has damaged a relationship or two.) Unfortunately none of these ways included a blond, blue-eyed Adonis.
Movies race by faster when you're this familiar with the content. You'd think it would be the opposite, that the pace would seem slower and that you'd be bored. But no, it moves faster. This is not the only time I've noticed this strange compression of time. After midnight time seems to race, too. I can be doing something at 1:30, look at the clock a little bit later and will be shocked to discover it's 3:00 already.
Gotta go. Katie is about to explain to Hubbell why it must be exciting to be stationed in Washington. ("Because Roosevelt is there!")
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