Since my kids have been away, my husband and I have been going to the movies a little more frequent than normal for us. It’s as though there are quite a few movies that we both want to see, and there’s still more to come before the year is over.
In fairness I will say I enjoyed them all. We’ve seen Pelham 123, Transformers 2: The Revenge of the Fallen, Public Enemies, and today we saw My Sister’s Keeper.
My husband went because he wanted to take me to see My Sister’s Keeper, not because he was forced. I like that he can watch the girly flicks with me and don’t care who knows or sees him. But that’s not what this is about.
I remember a few years ago when I saw Jodi Picoult’s book in a book store, mostly Borders. I read the back cover and said this really sounds good. I didn’t buy it. Over time everytime I saw it, I would do the same thing; pick it up, read the back, say it sounds good, and put it back. I finally bought it for twenty-five cents at my library. I still haven’t had a chance to read it. But I did go see that movie.
I fought tears through most of the movie, because the entire family was suffering. I hurt for Kate. She was the sick sister. I hurt for Brian, the father, because he’s the strong one. And truth be told he needed to be his daughter’s protector; both of his daughters. Jesse, the brother, who tried to be the protector for his sisters while no one really saw him, except his sisters. I really felt the pain for Anna; the child born to be the saviour for Kate.
Most of all I cried for the turmoil Sara, the mother had to be going through. I can relate to her in a few too many ways. When my daughter was 3, she got really sick. And words like fine needle aspirations (FNA), CT scans, MRIs, dye injected into her veins, turmors, possibly cancer, I knew for sure I would die. I was pregnant with my second child when all of this started. In my head I kept saying I need to do whatever to save the child I have already held in my hands and loved.
Don’t get me wrong. I love each and everyone of my 3 children, but when you’re going through some thing like this, irrational thinking becomes rational no matter what. After I had my thired child I thought about getting my tubes tied, but I also still had in the back of my mind what ifshe gets sick again and none of us can save her. I would need to have another child to help her. I knew how Sara was feeling. Which parent wants to ever have to bury their child?
I watched other family members breakdown. I needed and was the strong one. I made a lot of the decisions. I slept in a very uncomfortable chair every nightfor two weeks while she was in the hospital. I was so stressed out that my doctor thought I would deliver early. I didn’t, because God knew I needed to focus on my little girl.
After watching My Sister’s Keeper, I realize I cannot make another child to save a child’s life. That would be morally wrong. It’s pretty much saying the only reason why you’re here is because I need your body parts to save your sibling, otherwise who knows. The decisions we have to make as parents are so hard, but we need to take into account all those involved.
Go see the movie. It’s good, and bring tissues.
Through Twitter and my online buddies I found out that author E. Lynn Harris has died. It’s so funny I was talking about him this pass Sunday. Someone asked how can I read books on homosexuals and for me it was quite easy to answer. I can read any book that has to do with the way of the world, and enjoy it too.
I remember when I first came across Harris’ books. I quickly wanted to know more about his characters, especially Basil Henderson. But most importantly he was one of the first African American author, who happens to be male that I read in the late 90s. Before him I was only reading James Baldwin and Richard Wright, and many non-AA authors.
