Rolled over by The Family Stone

(Don't read this if you want to see the movie -- I don't want to spoil the ending).

It's the usual crazy Christmas around here, so I thought it would be nice to see something light on Saturday night. The commercials for The Family Stone looked funny and it got decent reviews, so I dragged my reluctant husband (he wanted to see King Kong )to the movies.

The movie is billed a Sarah Jessica Parker comedy. It ain't. The storyline seems to be about the uptight brother in a big family bringing his even more uptight girlfriend home at Christmas to meet the kinfolk. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. This is only funny if you enjoy laughing at other people's misery and discomfort.

The real storyline is that the family matriarch, played by the awesome Diane Keaton, is dying of cancer and this will be her last Christmas. The reason that this kinda sucked for us is because my mother-in-law Anita died from cancer on January 16, 2004. We spend the 2003 holidays, two years ago, taking care of her, saying good-bye to her, and dealing with the emotional trauma of watching someone we loved slip away. The pain was so gut-wrenching I won't even try to describe it here, although unfortunately too many of you reading this have been through that.

This movie reached out and whapped us upside the head. Instantly, we were back to Christmas 2003, when we flew from Anita's bedside in Florida on Christmas Eve to spend the holiday with my parents, then flew right back with our children so they could say good-bye to their grandmother. After Anita's death, my whole life shifted. At first it was completely off-kilter, but later, after it righted itself, I found myself in a better place. I kept thinking, "You're not supposed to miss your mother-in-law this much." You know, nasty mother-in-law jokes, mother-daughter-in-law tension, etc. But I loved Anita and I still miss her. The movie reminded me once again that my husband's grief was more vast than mine. I lost a dear friend, a loving relative, a support system, and a cheerleader. He lost his mom. The two don't compare.

I really admire the human race. Most of us, given the age-time continuum of life, will lose our parents and all that involves. And yet, we endure. We go to work, we go out with friends, we play with our kids, we live on. But most of us will have this hole in our hearts from losing a parent. After Anita died, I would find myself looking at others, and thinking, "His mom is dead." "I think her mom died last year." "How old is he, I wonder if his parents are alive?" I wonder if they're walking around with that base grief.

In the final scene of the movie, the entire clan is gathering a year later, major issues resolved, at the homestead for a post-Mom Christmas. There's a Christmas tree, a brave Dad, and decorations, but somehow the whole house seems bleak and empty. I thought of my father-in-law's dirty bathroom and fridge full of ketchup and mustard. I had to take deep, shuttering breaths to keep from crying, because I was afraid that if I started, I would start wailing and be unable to stop for a while. My husband was muttering in his deadpan way, "I hate you. I could be in Kong right now."

Maybe we need them, these transcendent painful moments. Maybe every once in a while, we need something sharp and pointy to unexpectedly jab at that hole in our hearts that stops us up short and takes our breath away. Maybe there is some cosmic message to appreciate the fragility of life. But it still sucked.

I can't say that I didn't like the movie. I am annoyed with the commercials which portrayed it as a funny little holiday comedy, ha ha. But it was a good movie. I've been thinking of Anita all day.