Maybe I'll start getting tired of The Sound of Music after I've seen it 200 times. It's not likely, but it's possible. The Sound of Music is always at Easter; I'm watching it right now for the second time this week.
I think age is affecting me. I get very easily emotional over things I once scorned as ridiculously sappy. I'm never far from being just a little verklempt. (Damn that Hans. They'd have EASILY made the Swiss border if he wasn't such a Tyrolean Nazi stool pigeon.) The Sound of Music is a perfect example. The Reverend Mother, so stern and wise and benevolent, ordering Maria not to use the convent as an escape from life. "If you love this man, it doesn't mean that you love God less!"
And Baroness Schrader; beautiful, elegant, and heartbroken. "And somewhere, there's a young lady who I think will never be a nun." It gets me every single time.
I cried over poor Natasha Richardson. Not to suggest that her untimely death should have been mere trivia, but I never used to cry over celebrity deaths. She was just so beautiful, and happy and radiant. And poor Liam Neeson and their two sons. I couldn't stop thinking about it for days. I can't even read without puddling up. I just finished Sandra Tsing Loh's "Mother on Fire". I love Sandra Tsing Loh, except that sometimes, I have to put her books down since reading one is far too much like being inside my own brain. Still, this one had me annoyed, even a little cranky, as Sandra comes dangerously close to becoming totally unhinged over the idea of her child ending up in PUBLIC SCHOOL. I know that she's satirizing the rarefied world of upper class crazy people who pay $25,000 a year for private kindergarten, but then she herself seemed to utterly accept the premise that the only way to save your children from a life of mediocrity or worse is to consign them to ridiculous educational spas where they'll never face a moment of unpleasantness. But then, she tours a public school and has an epiphany. Watching the special education kids at the school next door, mostly ethnic, mostly poor, she writes "In a universe darker than ours, no one would give two figs for these kids. These children would be the discards", but..."people love these children...the human race...it is a miracle...there is grace all around me." I was nearly bawling at this, even though it's so simple and so obvious. It is a miracle, isn't it? The world will never stop trying to convince us that only the talented, the beautiful, and the brilliant really matter, but if we're lucky, we'll never stop finding the beauty and the brilliance in the most ordinary and uncelebrated people, the ones who surround us every day. "All around me", Sandra Tsing Loh writes in her happy fog, "the city is vibrating, shot through with light". It is. It isn't always, but for someone at some moment, it is.
The nuns just sabotaged the Nazis' cars, and the von Trapps will once again escape to Switzerland. Grace all around. Happy Easter!