One of my favorite movies is The Family Stone. There, I said it. It’s one of the only favs on my list that isn’t pre 1985 or black and white. Sure, I save it for the Christmas season each year, since that’s the setting, but I also use it as a therapy tool. If I’m feeling anxious or a bit down or even just a little anti-Dina, you know, anything requiring a cathartic cry session, I’ll either watch Terms of Endearment or Stone. Diane Keaton simply nails the scared mom who isn’t scared of anything persona. I love the scene where Dermot Mulroney & Claire Danes are walking through the little postcard town, in the snow, no less. Claire’s character, Julie, is telling Dermot’s character, Everett, about a man on a little island in Alaska who cannot sleep at night because of this hole in his heart. He decides the only way to fill the hole is to carve a totem pole. Everett says he really wants to see that totem pole. Though mostly unsaid, you get the sense that the lesson laid out for the viewer is a very uncheesy version of carpe diem. Go see the dang totem pole, why dontcha? Maybe I’m telling you this now because even I am starting to feel straight jacketed these days. My work from home stuff has ceased to exist. No one wants a wedding backdrop or tablescaping or chalk art during a pandemic, you see. That’s fine, though, because we decided to integrate my mom into our household, full time. I’ve had my plate full of packing, unpacking, apartment final cleans, settling in activities, et al. And, yet, here I sit, inventing things to do. Again.
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