I don’t believe my sons saw the movie Bambi, although I guess, through the grapevine of kidtalk, they got the gist of it. I know I didn’t arrange for them to see it. I have never, ever seen the purpose in breaking young little hearts – or old ones as well. There was no need to for me to watch an old dog stuck in a hole in “Homeward Bound.” I left the sofa at that point and did not come back. To this day, my grandkids will say, “Well, if you don’t want to watch this, I can always put in “Homeward Bound.”
Yesterday evening I was reading a book of remembrances – vignettes of lives in the East End of London in the early 1950’s – and I had read through several when I came to one that had no AmeliaJake Warning posted at the beginning. I read along and even when I should have started to suspect, I did not; I so identified with one character, I could not help but be cheered when good news came. I was so happy for this character I was totally blind to what the cynical AmeliaJake would have seen in any other scenario. The crushing moment for that character crushed me too. It was like it was me, sitting there, experiencing it.
I shut the Kindle as fast as I had slammed “Little Red Riding Hood” closed when the parent reading came to the part about the grandma being eaten. I have not re-opened it. I squashed down the sobs and went in and watched Ironman 3 with Summer and Der Bingle.
Today I am going to keep myself busy and get a lot done, because I know, that sooner or later, I am just going to have to take some time to ferry Shane over to a secluded spot at the fairgrounds and while he chases squirrels, just sit in the car and let the sobs out.