What an incredible movie! Technically it drew you into the patient's mind. What an experience!
The persistence, care, and love expressed in the film by the caretakers and the patient forced you to live his experience. It bespeaks so well of the French medical system and possibilities. All the acting was superb. The speech therapist was like someone you know.
This man, this vegetable, celebrated his humanity, and with the help of those who cared for him, and loved him he made them noble. His fight for life and reality helps me face my future. A truly great gift. Make sure you see it.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Some Punctuating Moments in a Long Life
Yesterday was my 87th birthday. Certainly, a punctuation in my life. It made me think of other times in my life that made a significant change, or revealed a special insight in the world around me. The earliest one is strange. I understand it now, but didn't when it happened.
I was asleep in my crib, abut 5 years old, and turned my head to see my father kneeling beside my bed, and my mother standing over him. She was saying thorugh gritted teeth, "Swear you will never see her again. Swear on your child's life." I pretended to be asleep, but didn't understand anything that was said. All of a sudden the adult world wasn't peaceful or safe. In later years I realized what that little scene meant.
The second incident happened when I was about 8 years old. My father's Uncle Joe was a barber, and we visited his family very often. It was Aunt Katie, Uncle Joe, Anthony their son, and their two daughters, Fannie and Tessie. I wouldn't let anyone else cut my hair. I adored Uncle Joe. He was my substitute Grandpa. He had a piano that had foot levers that you had to pump, and rolls with holes in them. When pumped the rolls, music came out songs like "Nola", "Roses are Blooming in Picardy" and any other popular songs of the time. He would let me pump the levers with him.
The words to the songs were on the piano rolls. We would sing together, and pump away.
To me it was magic.
An thony,Uncle Joe's son, contracted pneumonia. He was hospitalized and isolated, but
Uncle Joe insisted upon visiting him, and caught the bug. Anthony recovered, but Uncle Joe
was very sick and at home. (There was no penicillin or drugs for resisting contagious diseases.)
My Dad and Mom went to visit Uncle Joe on this particular evening. I was home alone and in bed.
(We lived across from Most Holy Trinity Catholic Church where the bells tolled every 15 minutes and tolled the time on the hour.) I woke up with bells ringing nine o'clock. A breeze seemed to rattle the shade, and in a flash Uncle Joe was there. He said ,"Goodbye, Dolly," and kissed me on my forehead. He seemed to evaporate.
A couple of hours later,my parents came home and I heard them whispering. I went into their room.
My Mom said, "Uncle Joe is gone.I'm so sorry. He died." I looked right at her and asked "What time did he die?" She answered " At exactly nine o'clock", I turned around and went back to bed. I thought, " He came to say goodbye. Will I ever see him again?" This wasMy first brush with death and the supernatural.
I was asleep in my crib, abut 5 years old, and turned my head to see my father kneeling beside my bed, and my mother standing over him. She was saying thorugh gritted teeth, "Swear you will never see her again. Swear on your child's life." I pretended to be asleep, but didn't understand anything that was said. All of a sudden the adult world wasn't peaceful or safe. In later years I realized what that little scene meant.
The second incident happened when I was about 8 years old. My father's Uncle Joe was a barber, and we visited his family very often. It was Aunt Katie, Uncle Joe, Anthony their son, and their two daughters, Fannie and Tessie. I wouldn't let anyone else cut my hair. I adored Uncle Joe. He was my substitute Grandpa. He had a piano that had foot levers that you had to pump, and rolls with holes in them. When pumped the rolls, music came out songs like "Nola", "Roses are Blooming in Picardy" and any other popular songs of the time. He would let me pump the levers with him.
The words to the songs were on the piano rolls. We would sing together, and pump away.
To me it was magic.
An thony,Uncle Joe's son, contracted pneumonia. He was hospitalized and isolated, but
Uncle Joe insisted upon visiting him, and caught the bug. Anthony recovered, but Uncle Joe
was very sick and at home. (There was no penicillin or drugs for resisting contagious diseases.)
My Dad and Mom went to visit Uncle Joe on this particular evening. I was home alone and in bed.
(We lived across from Most Holy Trinity Catholic Church where the bells tolled every 15 minutes and tolled the time on the hour.) I woke up with bells ringing nine o'clock. A breeze seemed to rattle the shade, and in a flash Uncle Joe was there. He said ,"Goodbye, Dolly," and kissed me on my forehead. He seemed to evaporate.
A couple of hours later,my parents came home and I heard them whispering. I went into their room.
My Mom said, "Uncle Joe is gone.I'm so sorry. He died." I looked right at her and asked "What time did he die?" She answered " At exactly nine o'clock", I turned around and went back to bed. I thought, " He came to say goodbye. Will I ever see him again?" This wasMy first brush with death and the supernatural.
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