On a rare day, I found myself home alone. The house was mine, all mine. Solitude. Sigh.
Except, I was lost. It’s embarrassing. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had this day earmarked for a personal celebration of Kelly time, but when it came, I didn’t know how to enjoy it.
I couldn’t ignore the things that needed doing. That turned into the spin cycle of starting one task, getting sidetracked by another, then another, and before I knew it, I was out of sorts and out of step with myself. The overwhelm, all of which was in my own head, was making me dizzy. This day of peaceful solitude wasn’t supposed to be about chores; it was supposed to be restful.
Then I remembered a movie I wanted to see on our streaming service. Nobody in my family wanted to see this film. Not enough bad guys and explosions for the Carpenter and not enough musical ensembles for our daughter. This was a serious, award-winning foreign film with English subtitles and a plot whose conclusion was not foregone, with a slower pace that tells a story of love and loss that transcends time. See, I already lost you, too.
But I deserved rest. If football’s on, the Carpenter stops everything, so why shouldn’t I? Cinema is my football.
The film was in black and white, creating a moody tone with a musical score that furthered that sentiment. The cinematography was sweeping grandeur, with seaside cliffs and twisting, narrow roads towering over the edge of the water, and a sea whose tides ebbed and flowed with the tension of the film. It was set in locales of stunning historical architecture, so old it looked as if it might crumble, yet so defiant of its surroundings, it stood the test of time. I realized I need to travel.
Speed reading English subtitles made sense of the most romantic languages I’ve ever heard; Italian, Spanish and French. International characters made me seriously consider downloading the Duolingo app. I was so wrapped up in this European tale of love, betrayal and intrigue that one hour became two and I didn’t notice.
Art does that. It’s an emergency exit from your current status. Art takes you places you’ve never been only to learn that the threads of human nature transcend culture, language and geography. We need art now. I need art now.
As luck would have it, in the final minutes of the plot twist, a conclusion that had me on the edge of the couch, enthralled in this denouement of love and loss, I heard the Carpenter’s truck pull into the driveway.
A draft of cold wind ushered him into the house with the same force he always brings when he arrives home; loudly singing the last song he heard on the truck radio, off-key but joyous. It’s adorable, unless I’m watching an international film and bawling my eyes out, which is making the subtitles super hard to read.
He entered the room, unsure of how to read the situation. He looked from me to the television, back to me. Before he could ask his foregone question, I raised my tissue-squeezing hand to stop him.
He left the room, because sometimes, it’s just better not to ask.
Fini.
