When I’m feeling blue, I watch a Hallmark movie. They are satisfying and predictable. You know there will be a chance meeting, or a combative meeting, (verbal wit and cleverness) or an arranged meeting by some well-meaning friend or family member. There are always some misunderstandings, some harsh words, but in the end, the couple kisses and we assume a happy-ever-after for them.
Then there are the Lifetime movies. Betrayal, revenge, and sometimes violence. Broken hearts, broken friendships, broken bones. These movies are populated with what my mother used to call, “no-goodniks” out to ruin life for the good guys. Some people watch these movies because they want to see a life that looks worse than theirs. Not me. They make me sad, especially when they mirror the real thing.
Last week was tough, as I worked through the fact that it was the first year of fifty years when I didn’t hear my daughter’s voice on her birthday. It was the first, in what could be the forever of our relationship. The stark reality of separation set in. I rode the wave and held on tight, with a prayer that all storms pass, and there is always a chance to meet when the sea calms.