When I’ve said that I am melancholy before, I see it in the way I write. It’s no wonder that I love to cry at the movies. I appreciate a film that has the power to move me to tears. I recently saw the new Les Miserables and they did a great job of making me sob the first half of the movie and then again during the last half hour. I shouldn’t have worn mascara. I cried during Toy Story 3. Let’s be honest, it’s pretty impressive to bring a grown adult to tears over toys. And I know from conversations with other grown adults, I wasn’t the only one. I cry every time I watch It’s a Wonderful Life, the part when Harry Bailey comes in at the end and says, “A toast to my big brother George, the richest man in town.” Boy, it gets me going.
I think it all started way back when I grew up watching Little House on the Prairie, a show that had at least one to two traumatic events happen in that town in just one week. As I grew up, I found that most episodes had to power to bring tears to my eyes. It’s that town of Walnut Grove! There are just so many touching moments when Pa would come in to save the day or Laura would make the right choice to befriend the poor kid at school or all the children in town would come together with the help of the mute tinker to make a new bell for the church while the adults were fighting over who would pay for it. Oh my! It’s all too beautiful! My sister does not like Little House. Everything catches on fire, there's always a new character with a new disability, everyone’s poor, people going blind every day and so many dying babies.
My sister loves to write about joy and goodness. I’m finding I like to write about crying and sorrow and suffering and sadness and heaviness etc….
I told her that I think I need to lighten up.
I think my problem is that I like to romanticize everything , meaning to treat everything as romantic, idealized, heroic or glamorous – for example:
-When I have company over, I love to roll out the red carpet for them and serve them beautiful pastries and sparkling juice in my crystal stemware all in my 874 square foot mansion.
-I love to buy books. I think they will make me more spiritual and smart. I just keep buying more. Finishing them. That’s the problem. I think I’m in the middle of 9, no 10 currently.
-When I play piano, I imagine I’m playing for an audience in a great hall and they all applaud at the end because I’ve moved them to tears. In reality, I don’t play for anyone, ever and I make too many mistakes for that kind of audience.
-When I’m getting ready for next September, I imagine I’m training to become amazon woman who is greatly skilled in climbing trees to retrieve coconuts, wears a survivor buff and gives hugs and kisses to dirty and needy children all day long. In reality, I think I’m just going to smell, look gross and to do my best to not complain about my how uncomfortable my bed is while trying to love others.
-After church services I get pumped and I plan to read my Bible, journal, study scripture and pray for intense hours every day so I can be full of His presence. Too bad I forgot and just spent the last hour sipping coffee and painting my nails while watching Duck Dynasty on A&E. It’s a Christian show. That counts as Bible study, right?
-When I go swimming, I imagine the Olympics are probably going to need me as I flip turn to do my second lap. What a shame. I am usually exhausted and done after my 3rd.
-When I write, I imagine I’m changing the world one letter at a time and someday I’ll put it all into a book so you can stand in line to get my autograph. When in reality, nope.
-There is a mezuzah on my doorpost that I purchased as a lovely reminder of my time in Israel. When I recite the scripture in the morning as I leave, I just know God’s going to give me the best day ever so that I am the most kind, generous and loving person everyone encounters on their day. It’s a good thing no one can read my mind as I serve my customers. You want me to make you a 1/3 decaf triple grande 2 pump vanilla breve light foam with whip extra hot extra caramel caramel Macchiato in a Venti cup? No problem.
-I wear solid black most days at work, so when I go anywhere else, I like to go all out in my attempts at fashion stardom. I know that Star magazine is just around the corner ready to do another shoot on who wore it best, me or Katie Holmes. After all, she stops by my Starbucks to visit me when in town. Does she shop at Kohls too?
-When I’m visiting my nieces and nephew and I wake up before them, I always kiss them on their foreheads and say a prayer over them when they don’t know. In this way, I know I’m the most amazing aunt and that they will cry when I’m not there and they’ll beg their momma to let them come visit me. That really happens, right Christina?
Even though I’m a romantic by nature, I have also learned to enjoy Napoleon Dynamite and Elf just like everyone else. I must confess, I have not seen Dumb and Dumber or Happy Gilmore, nor do I intend to. I would just like to be a bit less dramatic and incorporate some joy like my sister into my crazy romantic idea of a world. So for my next blog, I’m going to try something different. And I’m going to post it right now because it is also done. (and it's really short!)
