klena: (;_; rorschach)
[personal profile] klena
Dave selected Max and Mary for us to watch last night.

I wasn't in particularly excellent form to watch it. I felt angry at him for not meeting me halfway on the walk home and this week has left me feeling emotionally delicate and sensitive. I've cried quite a few times.

He selected this to watch together. It wasn't anything I'd heard of, I didn't even know it was a claymation picture.

It was wonderful. Strange and off-kilter and touching and it hit me closer to the bone that maybe anything else would have. I spent a good 40 minutes after the movie was over crying helplessly in bed.

I still can't explain it. Maybe because the ending brought a lot of things to the forefront. The idea of a man with Aspergers dying in his apartment before he meets his only friend broke my heart. Would it have hit me so hard if the movie hadn't been about a man with Aspergers? Yes, but not like this.

Mary arrives, after years of correspondance with Max, to his New York apartment and find that he died peacefully that morning in his armchair. She scans the apartment which has the trinkets they have exchanged over the years, and then she tilts her head back to see all her letters attached to the ceiling so Max can read them. She cries, and smiles too.
"He smells like licorice and old books, she thinks"

And the tears started. Was it because it brought some notion to me that my brother is much like that, alone in the world? When my parents pass (and oh God, I can't even contemplate), will he become like Max? Alone in an apartment? Of course, highly unlikely as he has me, but it still shook me.

It reminded me of that potential. It reminded me of my Uncle Michael, who lives in a respite community.

And what maybe caused me to cry for so long was the fact that it reminded me that my Granny was also found in a chair. But not lying back, content. Slumped over with a stroke. To be found like that by the people that cared.

I'm sitting here crying now at the thought of it. I can't explain it. It shook me in some indefinable way, brought me to tears that would not stop as I shook. I did not want Dave to touch me or to hold me. I could not do anything but sob silently and try to move away from Dave. He realised and woke himself up slightly. Pulled me into him and let me cry.

Date: 2010-11-12 08:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hybrid-xisha.livejournal.com
You have a man who just lets you BE, and stays with you while you're doing so. That oughta bring you a side order of smile with those tears! :)

Inappropriate icon is inappropriate (but funny).


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