I know it's silly -- it's a movie. It's about a pregnant, obese, illiterate teenager from Harlem. Hardly the feel-good movie of the year. But it's a big deal. Because somehow I was drawn to this movie immediately. The first time I saw the trailer on my sweet friend, M's, facebook page, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I ordered the book. I watched interviews. I put an event on my iCal when it was being released. I helped organize an outing for the Magdalene ladies to go see it in the theatre. But, as it sometimes happens, I got called to work out of town. And since it's my job (and I love it), of course I'm going to be there.... I just had had these plans set up...
So, with a day off in a land far, far away, I decided to see the movie alone. This is definitely not advice I would give to anyone, but I wanted to somehow be connected to the group of women that have truly saved me over the last couple of years. The movie itself was real and frightening and tender and heartbreaking. And I went through 4 Kleenexes. When I left the theatre, I went to the beach to watch the sun set. And to process.
I reflected on the movie. What WAS it that made me so into this film? I am not like Precious. I do not have the same struggles as she had. But I feel it. I feel her pain. I feel her aloneness. I want to help her. I want to help them. I flash back to my interview with Demetria. How I cried when she cried when she told me she wasn't able to remember her son taking his first steps because she was too high. Who asks me 'where've you been?' when I was gone for a month. Whose laugh is contagious and heart is coveted.
And Katrina, who is graceful and beautiful and brilliant and HIV positive. Who laughs about the absurdity of life and muses with such wisdom, you wish you constantly had a paper and pen handy to jot down the perils of wisdom she offers, unaware.
I am very aware that I do NOT want to be just a benefactor to this organization. Though they need it, I don't want to just give money and gifts. I want to be there. I want them to know I am with them. I want them to know I love them.
I want to be known myself.
Full of a mix of hope and melancholy, I check my iPhone to find a message from M. They are at the theater and ready to go experience it -- some of them, their lives portrayed on the big screen. But they wanted to share a quick hi first:
And there they were. The girls. MY girls. My sweet, precious girls, all there, saying hi to me. Preparing to share in this unique moment together... and bringing me along with them. I wept, again, because although I was still heartbroken that I couldn't be there with them, I knew I really was there... and will continue to be, as long as they are in my heart and mind and prayers.
Which will be forever.