Crunchy Thoughts

The other night Steven and I went with some of his co-workers to see the Transformers sequel on the IMAX screen at the McWayne Center. Cool, right?

Ugg. I don’t think The Great Wonderous People That Be thought this one all the way through. Some movies aren’t meant to be stretched across your entire span of vision, and 140 minutes of fast-paced, constantly-transforming robots shown in closeups will wear on your eyes in the first five minutes.

The few times people were not running for their lives and actually walked across the screen, you would have to turn your entire head in order to see them.

Sometimes, the location of the city would flash in techy wording at the bottom left-hand corner of the screen, which was right over my left shoulder. A little sound effect would burst forth when the words would be etched on, encouraging me to think, “Where are we at?” so I would lean forward to look around Steven and everybody else to my left so I could read the slightly stretched words of NEW YORK, which I should have been able to tell anyway if I knew my Geography of Buildings better. It didn’t matter that the characters were in New York, anyway.

The worst part was an unexpected strip-down of a guy into just a creepy thong — larger than ever thanks to the IMAX experience. We did not need to see the hairs on that man’s ass.

At least, since the movie let out after the McWayne Center itself closed, we didn’t have to pay for parking.

You know you’re getting old when people ask you, “So, any big plans for this weekend?” and you smile back excitedly and exclaim, “I’m getting a haircut!” like it’s going to be a block party involving an inflatable ball pit and drunk people.

My hair appointment today is seriously the #1 thing on the agenda this weekend.

Thankfully, the next two weekends will be more action-packed . . . after all, Lydia’s FIRST EVER BIRTHDAY is looming; just a mere ten days away. Somebody whack me with a crowbar.

I’ll leave you with a short video of her new Favorite Thing To Do ™ — walking with assistance.

As most everyone who reads this site knows, we did lose my mom this past Sunday. The past few days have really been a blur. Apologies in advance for droning on about sad things; I promise I will be back to writing tales of tear-inducing laughter in no time.

I did want to post here something I wrote for Mom’s funeral. It was read during the service though not by me. I’m not a good orator.

After the service, the funeral director was manhandling the flowers into the flower arrangement-toting mobile and managed to create a floral domino effect with one stand of flowers knocking down the others until a floor lamp became the ultimate casualty, keeling over and smashing into smithereens. I could hear Mom giggling.

Of course, I kept a piece of the lamp. My sister and I have fond memories of that lamp, actually.

_______________________________

This is not how it was supposed to be. None of us are supposed to be here today. My mother should be on the phone with her Peeps making plans for where they will be going for their Thursday lunch. All of this is a very hard thing to grasp.

I would need a lifetime to even begin to sum up what my mother is to me. How do you convey such a love in just words? I don’t know how to accomplish such a feat. What can you say about the woman who bore you and your sister, raised you both along with a loving father, and was always just a phone call away with the right words at the ever-ready?

I have found myself during these past few days’ events beginning to reach for that very phone and ring her up. She would know what to do. She would definitely tell me if the shoes I am contemplating are hideous. We have had half a lifetime of conversations together but the other half have been left unsaid.

I will be able to reconcile with all that has come to pass, but today . . . today all I can feel is a profound sadness that her two granddaughters will never get to know their Nana. However, I find joy beyond measure that she herself did get to know and love them. They are my mother’s treasures.