My father, 19 years ago, with his youngest grandchild
My three dreamers, on a recent vacation.
Each December, during the week between Christmas and New Year’s, my husband and I make a traditional trek to the movie theater, often several times. My goal is to see all the movies likely to be nominated for Academy Awards and the strongest contenders often are released during this time. Among the movies we saw this year was “La La Land,” an old fashioned love story and beautifully executed homage to old Hollywood starring Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling. As someone who grew up in a family of devoted fans of classic movies — especially musicals — I found emotions rushing through me as I recalled those who have since passed away while I watched the film. The first person was my father, who died five years and would have so delighted in seeing this film. He and my mother shared a passion for movies that they passed on to my siblings and me. Their coffee table was adorned with a giant book about old Hollywood, with photos of significant movies of the century. As a young girl, I spent many hours thumbing through the pages, riveted by the photos of the glamorous movie stars. The second was my Aunt Anita, my father’s sister, a walking treasure trove of movie trivia. Just name a movie from any era and she could easily recite the main characters, plot and memorable lines. This talent was second only to her ability to identify the filling in the center of individual chocolates in a box of candy. My aunt so worshiped the movies that for one of her birthdays, my parents gave her the ultimate present: tickets to the Academy Awards. They relied on my mother’s brother, then an entertainment lawyer in Los Angeles, who passed away two-and-a-half years ago. He went to great lengths to secure the tickets for her, pulling every string he could. It’s no understatement to say that this experience was one of the highlights of her life. This feisty, 4 foot 10, woman traveled from her home in the suburbs of Detroit to Los Angeles, purchased a beautiful gown and ogled the stars as they walked down the Red Carpet. It was a dream that she could never have imagined coming true. My family members grew up cherishing the movies because, as storytellers themselves, they appreciated a well developed narrative. And musicals in particular provided an escape that allowed them — if even momentarily — to dream. I inherited that passion, so much that I performed in numerous amateur musicals, from high school through adulthood. And when I’m watching a great musical, I feel the presence of my father and aunt, infusing my spirit with optimism, amidst my sadness in missing them. “La La Land” was a temporary antidote to the pervasive skepticism I’ve felt these past few months. We see the optimistic spirit of two characters who pursue their dreams and succeed, despite all the obstacles in their way. My own adult children haven’t inherited my love for musicals, so I didn’t succeed in getting them to join me in seeing “La La Land”on our vacation together. They’re all nervous about what’s to come in the world. Even so, I see an optimistic spirit similar to that possessed by Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling’s characters. My children, too, dream of a happy future. They don’t hesitate to take risks to pursue their passions, even knowing things may not always go their way. In my mind, the lyrics of a song that Emma Stone sings in the song, “Audition,” towards the end of the movie was a tribute to them, and to my deceased father and aunt:
Here’s to the ones who dream; foolish as they may seem; here’s to the hearts that ache, here’s to the mess we make.
Here’s to a new year filled with optimism and the hope that we never stop dreaming.
My Aunt Anita in 1991