The Best Love Story Of All Time
Without Prejudice
There is a scene in a Movie that always reminds me of her. It catches her essence in one small fleeting scene, her truth and beauty, her dignity and self respect. If I could capture that sweet essence I would put it in a jar and send it out to the whole world. The first time I saw it I was on my own. A dull Sunday morning of leaden grey skies and pelting rain.
A hated winters day, I hate Sundays and Thursdays. Thursday is the day she died and I tremble at each one, just a little, waiting for bad news. And Sundays are Family days meant for Families to be together and I am alone, or feel very alone on Sundays in winter and in Melbourne.
The grass outside seems long and dark green, the air is heavy and moist and all around me seeems gloomy and silent. No birds sing, there are no happy cries of children playing, there is just emptiness and rain and another long Family day to get through.
Somehow, anyhow.
I feel my singledom most then and yet other days I welcome the quiet, but not Sundays, never on Sundays.
The clip I am talking about is in a Movie, called "Little Miss Sunshine", the actress, Abigail Breslin, she's a cute little girl of about 10. She is slightly pudgy but not fazed by it. She wears her red cowboy boots and shorts with a fat bottom in one scene that takes my breath away in remembrance of Lauren.
Her owl like eyes stare out from behind glasses that seem to big for her as she pushes them up her nose, just like Lauren did. She has big teeth, just like Lauren and she's an innocent just like Lauren too.
I sit in front of the TV that Sunday morning and watch the trailer of a movie called Little Miss Sunshine and cry. I cry for the little girl who doesn't think she's pretty or special. And I want to grab that actress out of the screen and hug her to me and never let her go.
She's so very beautiful, just like Lauren was. A beauty that shines incandescant from within. A beauty that is so full of promise and talent and "other worldliness" that I want to scream and sob but I can't. Silent tears run down my face and I am back in that place, the land of grief. God, when does it ever go away !??? I want to hurl something or smash something, cut myself wide open, scream at the pain but I can't, just can't. It won't help anyway.
So I sob on my own and look out at the sky, upwards at the sodden heavens and beg for release and want no more of this. And yet in my sweet agony I am relieved, it's over and ebbing now, like a labour pain after you have peaked and are coming down the other side. The peaks and valleys, the ebb and flow, the agony and the ecstasy of missing my baby.
I wish you had known her.
Everyone should have a Lauren in their lives. A fat bottomed chubby baby with a gap in their teeth and a smile. Her smile resonates within me and none of it helps, nothing helps. I am lost with no rudder, directionless with no compass as I sit in the lounge room of no hope and cry. No one can help me, no one can understand, There is no greater conversation stopper than,
"I hurt".
She used to bring me flowers and cups of tea in the Royal Albert tea cups and once when I left him she brought me chocolates and cried and asked me to come back. I cry now when I think of her heartbreak and I am sorry for everything I put her through, every hurt, every hurtful word or scolding.
But how are we to know, we can't know that one day it will be the last day or the last word.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger they say. What the Fuck would "they" know about it, they can't possibly know and I hate the whole world at times like that and then I realise I am being stupid. And selfish and I want to sob in someones arms without having to explain. But it's beyond explanation and I'm buggered if I am even going to try.
She lived, she loved, she mattered and if I had to say how I feel, I would always say sad.
Love Janette
There is a scene in a Movie that always reminds me of her. It catches her essence in one small fleeting scene, her truth and beauty, her dignity and self respect. If I could capture that sweet essence I would put it in a jar and send it out to the whole world. The first time I saw it I was on my own. A dull Sunday morning of leaden grey skies and pelting rain.
A hated winters day, I hate Sundays and Thursdays. Thursday is the day she died and I tremble at each one, just a little, waiting for bad news. And Sundays are Family days meant for Families to be together and I am alone, or feel very alone on Sundays in winter and in Melbourne.
The grass outside seems long and dark green, the air is heavy and moist and all around me seeems gloomy and silent. No birds sing, there are no happy cries of children playing, there is just emptiness and rain and another long Family day to get through.
Somehow, anyhow.
I feel my singledom most then and yet other days I welcome the quiet, but not Sundays, never on Sundays.
The clip I am talking about is in a Movie, called "Little Miss Sunshine", the actress, Abigail Breslin, she's a cute little girl of about 10. She is slightly pudgy but not fazed by it. She wears her red cowboy boots and shorts with a fat bottom in one scene that takes my breath away in remembrance of Lauren.
Her owl like eyes stare out from behind glasses that seem to big for her as she pushes them up her nose, just like Lauren did. She has big teeth, just like Lauren and she's an innocent just like Lauren too.
I sit in front of the TV that Sunday morning and watch the trailer of a movie called Little Miss Sunshine and cry. I cry for the little girl who doesn't think she's pretty or special. And I want to grab that actress out of the screen and hug her to me and never let her go.
She's so very beautiful, just like Lauren was. A beauty that shines incandescant from within. A beauty that is so full of promise and talent and "other worldliness" that I want to scream and sob but I can't. Silent tears run down my face and I am back in that place, the land of grief. God, when does it ever go away !??? I want to hurl something or smash something, cut myself wide open, scream at the pain but I can't, just can't. It won't help anyway.
So I sob on my own and look out at the sky, upwards at the sodden heavens and beg for release and want no more of this. And yet in my sweet agony I am relieved, it's over and ebbing now, like a labour pain after you have peaked and are coming down the other side. The peaks and valleys, the ebb and flow, the agony and the ecstasy of missing my baby.
I wish you had known her.
Everyone should have a Lauren in their lives. A fat bottomed chubby baby with a gap in their teeth and a smile. Her smile resonates within me and none of it helps, nothing helps. I am lost with no rudder, directionless with no compass as I sit in the lounge room of no hope and cry. No one can help me, no one can understand, There is no greater conversation stopper than,
"I hurt".
She used to bring me flowers and cups of tea in the Royal Albert tea cups and once when I left him she brought me chocolates and cried and asked me to come back. I cry now when I think of her heartbreak and I am sorry for everything I put her through, every hurt, every hurtful word or scolding.
But how are we to know, we can't know that one day it will be the last day or the last word.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger they say. What the Fuck would "they" know about it, they can't possibly know and I hate the whole world at times like that and then I realise I am being stupid. And selfish and I want to sob in someones arms without having to explain. But it's beyond explanation and I'm buggered if I am even going to try.
She lived, she loved, she mattered and if I had to say how I feel, I would always say sad.
Love Janette
