The Oscars being on tonight makes me wish I watched movies.
When I was a kid, we watched so many movies. But now, as an adult, I can count on one hand the number of times I have been to a movie theater in the last 5 years. I think about Wednesday mornings in summer when I would be in my bedroom, hear the hum of the Honda starting in the driveway, and I would race down the stairs. "Patsy! Where are you going?" I would yell out the front door. Nine times out of ten she would turn the car off, I could hear the dinging chime of the keys still in the ignition when she opened the door, and she would come back into the house to invite me, and wait for me to get ready to join her for the day. My Aunt Patsy was my pseudo-grandma; an aunt, but a third parent. An aunt who lived with us since I was only a few years old. Patsy was always full of adventure, full of creativity, full of stories, and full of that grandma-like instinct to spoil my siblings and me. Now it has been years since she left this world. Brain cancer took her from us when I was in college. She had an affinity for all things movie related. On Wednesdays and Sundays, she didn't work at the bank, and that was always her schedule as long as I can remember. At least one of those days, if not both, she would head to the movie theater. Many times my brother, my sister and I would join her, but if there was something she wanted to see and we were busy, or maybe I didn't happen to hear the Honda starting that day, she would go see it by herself. Large popcorn and a diet coke, she would order, every time. The popcorn is my lunch, she would explain, as though I would judge her for eating the whole thing. The craziest part to me, as a kid, is that she got it with NO butter. She was always so concious of her health and wanted to avoid all of the extra additives and calories in that "fake stuff." She would order a separate popcorn for us kids, and would make us little cone-shaped cups out of napkins so that we wouldn't argue over who got to hold the popcorn. One of my greatest regrets is that as I got older, those rare days she would go to the movies alone became more and more common. We were busy. We were teenagers. Maybe the reason I don't go to more movies now is because I know it wouldn't be the same. Maybe it's a little thought of the guilt I feel about all of those times she turned off the car, came back inside, and invited me to go with her, and all of the times I got in my car as a highschooler, and left her behind. Maybe part of it is the realization that now that I know better, now that my priorities are straight, I wont have the opportunity to invite her to a movie, or to tell her how much it meant that she always had an open invitation for me. It's such a strange thing, but that sound of the Honda starting in the driveway outside my bedroom window is so distinct and so vivid. When she got too sick to drive and sold the car to my brother, I remember the sting of hearing it and how seeing my brother drive it meant she was declining even further. I never watch the Oscars, only partially because I never know any of the movies.
5 Comments
3/4/2018 10:19:13 pm
This went in an unexpected direction and I really enjoyed it. It hurt. Your snippets of memories with your aunt were simple and beautiful and heartfelt. This was such a lovely slice. Just thank you for writing it.
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Sara Tomasevich
3/4/2018 11:39:15 pm
Your last line. Wow.
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Dana Murphy
3/5/2018 11:34:46 am
Your writing, Melody, it gets me every time. I have goosebumps reading this, and I'm one second away from crying because I miss Aunt Patsy! This is so beautiful, and so vivid. I can hear the Honda too... and the "dinging chime of the keys." Such great, great detail.
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3/5/2018 04:44:05 pm
What a beautiful tribute to your Aunt Patsy. Thanks for sharing her with us. It tugged at my heart because I had several aunts that I was close to growing up. I know exactly how you feel about her.
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Author5th grade teacher, wife, mama to my 3 magical babies, ally, advocate, doggy foster mom... just stumbling on. Archives
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