Flashforward: It is December 8, 2010, the last night of Chanukah. I am sitting in my favorite lounge chair, surrounded by diet ginger ale, used kleenex, and empty pill containers. I have taken all my medications for the day, including my pre-bedtime dose of medication for my bronchitis and my middle of the night dose of Parkinson's Disease medicine. I've had a nice day, out with friends to a museum trip and luncheon, out with John for one last night of latkes, and a nice long chat with my sister. All this topped off with a phone call from my daughter Rachel saying that she and her husband Jon will accept my offer to accompany them on their move to Arkansas, and to stay for a week or so to help watch the kids while they settle in. John has said that maybe he can come on the weekend.
John went to bed a couple of hours ago, but I needed to unwind. Just for fun, I have just watched an old romantic movie from 1989 called "Chances Are". It's hard to watch without feeling a little sad about how good Robert Downey, Jr. used to be. During the movie, I am feeling excited, thinking about the trip to Arkansas, and our upcoming trip to Paris with Marc and Cheryl and their children. I am wondering if I can pull it all off, or will be felled by more bronchitis. But, reminding myself that both Paris and Arkansas are warmer in the winter than Connecticut, I feel optimistic. Besides, antibiotics are available both in Arkansas and Paris, just in case.
As I am about to go to bed, the television announcer states that the next movie is "The French Lieutenant's Woman". I make the motions of staying up to watch it, but knowing that I will fall asleep, I hit the DVR button so I can see the rest in the morning. I settle back in my lounge chair, and happily begin to watch the movie. I love the movie beyond all proportion to how good it is. It is a sign: my new career, as traveling Grandma, is being launched.
As life goes on, and things change, moving forward for me has not been so much a process of reinventing myself, but of finding myself again in the new surroundings. I realize now that it wasn't being a lawyer that defined me, it was being enthusiastic, and excited about what I was doing that defined me. In "The French Lieutenant's Woman" the characters are movie stars who glide back and forth between the roles they play as 19th century Londoners, and their real lives, but the story is eerily similar in both settings, and the ending uncertain. Perhaps that is why I have always loved that movie, it is a story of self transcending setting. It is also a reminder to me that there are times in life when joy happens, when difficulties only appear to be challenges, and when new doors open when we least expect it.
Do I love "The French Lieutenant's Woman" beyond proportion to how good it is? Do I love life beyond proportion to how good it is? Maybe -- or maybe sometimes, a movie, or a day, is really just that good.
