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They walked slowly down the dirt path, Forrest with a little confusion and Jenny with a great deal of dread...you remember the scene.
Jenny walked to within yards of the home where all the horror took place...She stared at the old house, dilapidated beyond repair, but still a fortress that was a testimony to her pain. She took one of her shoes off and threw it at the house in defiance...almost as if to knock it down; the grave marker to the death she felt inside. She fell to her knees and wept bitter sad tears over the loss of innocence...the theft of her childhood. Forrest didn't know why, but he knew he needed to comfort her, and he did.
Fast forward to the present, and segue from a beautiful if altogether bittersweet film into real life. Picture a woman...you'll have to picture this, since she's really not a woman on the outside, and she's not young or pretty like Jenny. But she still is too much like the character. She stands in the parking lot and looks up at the apartment sandwiched between offices on the second floor. She sees the window of the room where all of her own horror took place.
"Lei fottutamente bastardi, spero che lei bruciare all'inferno!" (You fucking bastard...I hope you burn in hell!)
She says to no one...a ghost perhaps, dead and gone for decades. She thinks of her sister; her near twin... only two years separated their birth. Had she a stone she would have hurled it at the window that mocked her pain...Had she a hero, the building would have been destroyed long ago, like Forrest did for Jenny. She stood in the parking lot; the lunchtime crowd was beginning to exit from the offices to their cars. They would have seen her, but paid no heed, if she had cared. She had no stone, and the building stood, as it had for decades, almost a headstone to mark the death of her own innocence and the loss of her childhood, along with her sister, and her five cousins...She wasn't raised a girl..Nor did she live as one, even today, but in her heart she had been a girl all of her life, in some large part, sharing space with the man who stood in her place in the parking lot that day. She wept bitter, angry and helpless tears.
"Non ᨠgiusto... di Dio, perché?" (It's not fair...Why, God?)
An answer came, hardly soothing or comforting, but true none the less. Comfort would come another day, and soon, but then it was small consolation to know that there never really had been fair or unfair. Life just is, and justice is often meted out of sight and out of remembrance. Her comfort would come in the form of a letter from a friend, with *hugs* and "I'm here for you"
Her healing had already begun...her wife held her every night...not as the woman she saw herself, but the husband of decades who was treasured by her spouse beside her. By her son, who didn't know her, but loved and respected the man with whom she had shared a lifetime. By a brother who hugged and wept and kissed her neck, even if he didn't know it was her he was kissing.
A phone call from an old friend who wept at the telling of the horror...who said,
"I am so sorry...I don't know what to say, but call me any time"...decades of close contact with another who never knew her but loved him like a brother.
And sweet sisters of all ages and places, coming together to surround her with love. Nearly countless notes from one who was like her own sister, accepting, caring, perhaps more caring than anyone she had ever know apart from her spouse. A special relationship that would likely be seen as unique by some, but precious and matchless...
Save for her "Big Sis" who wrote kind notes and letters..."This is what I did today," including her in the life her friend led many miles away. A special bond.
Her daughters that she had never had...also living apart from "Mom," but making her feel alive and whole by their words of encouragement and love...hearts to heart spanning an entire country, bringing her hope with a song or a quaint phrase in an ancient tongue. Perhaps almost a reward for patience after so much loss and pain.
Her mentor...one who shared with her secrets about what was to come...a special glimpse into worlds of imagination...
"Here, this is what I've got so far." Not seeking approval, for none was needed, but almost as a blessing from the Craftswoman to her Apprentice.
Another mentor...fun and alive and full of wisdom, with words of caution and support.
"Don't let it get to you,” along with words of praise, coming at just the right time to keep her going...unexpected and undreamed of, but kind and filled with hope and encouragement!
And dear ones around the globe...A friend and celebrity with whom to share social calendars and whimsical mirth. And another fun-loving girl with a sharp sense of humor living continents away...Another girl from "across the pond" with a talent to write even in the midst of her own pain, with characters who struggled and wondered, but also found time to hug and kiss before the end of the chapter. New friends with words of support and comfort. Some who might not see eye to eye with her all the time, but saw heart to heart on every occasion.
And a dear sweet sister with a sad but special bond...one who completely understood even as she understood herself...longing to be free of her own pain and learning to express that side of herself that lay dormant, finally receiving the permission to be herself that she never required in the first place. A heart all the way around the world; loving and so encouraging....greeting the woman each day with a special note about her own day and her life with her family.
I have watched Forrest Gump so many times, I've forgotten how many....enough to say that I love the film. I cry every time I see it...every time. But I never knew until this week, almost a revelation...I've always identified with Jenny...the girl who loves and encourages Forrest...the girl who feels broken and ashamed and damaged. But also the girl who is renewed by the love of someone dear to her. In the last six months, even as the pain slowly subsides, even as the heart is mended, I've discovered only this week why I identified with Jenny...maybe obvious to some...we share a past that is all too similar even if she's a character and I'm alive. My wife understands even if she knows nothing about this part of me....she understands and hold me close as I become whole. And my son and my brothers and my real-life family and friends.
But also those who I've described and so many more who have come along side me to bind my wounds and dry my tears. Those who have wept with me but also given me reason to laugh and smile again. I am indebted to you all, as you are my family as well.
In the midst of sorrow, there can also be joy, if you look hard enough. In the midst of pain and sadness, there can be hope if you can open your eyes to the things that may never take the place of what you've lost, but serve as a new beginning of life. In this time of blessing and wonder and joy, I want to wish all of you here a very rewarding and satisfying holiday...Christmas...a time of birth and promise and hope. And I pray for you all to have a joyous new year, filled with dreams realized and hopes fulfilled.
The Feather
from the movie Forrest Gump
Music by Alan Silvestri
As played by Don Lubiano
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3CYwvjiMXE
Comments
I Love That Movie
I love that movie and I remember that scene. People thought Forrest was mentally retarded and some treated him like that, but he said some very profound things about life like "Some days there just aren't enough rocks" He later had her house bulldozed to the ground.There are way too many stories like Jenny's and yours being played out in homes and in the news every day. It makes you wish that the guilty would always be punished for their crimes here on Earth. I guess we can only hope that these people will burn in hell.
Awww 'Drea,
We are all reflected in the characters we surround ourselves with, both real and fictitious. My life is enriched by your presence and would be diminished by your loss....
May the new year bring you wealth, health, happiness and love - Jay
If you can't learn to do things well, learn to enjoy doiing them badly....
My blog => http://jaym.angelblogs.co.uk/
That which does not kill me only serves to delay the inevitable. My blog => http://jaynemorose.wordpress.com/ <= note new address
ANDREA !
ALISON
I'm here for you and I understand.
ALISON
Dear Andrea
I can never hope to understand how or why you have suffered.
But I can understand how you have been able to bear it with the support of your friends and loved ones!
I love your stories and comments, and maybe we will never meet or who knows maybe we will?
When we meet I will give you a big hug and all my love, until then I have you always in my heart ok!
LoL
Rita
Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)
LoL
Rita