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The other evening, G and I went to see Walk the Line, the Johnny Cash movie. I was raised with Johnny Cash records playing in the background. My Dad loved his music. As I have matured, I find myself drawn to his intensity. I love singers that put 210% of themselves into their music. I want to feel the emotions they are communicating. That’s why I adore Billie Holiday, Janis Joplin and Johnny Cash. I feel everything they sing.
I won’t bother to critique the movie. The movie isn’t the point. The point is the emotion, and I sat there at one point crying like a baby. I was literally shaking I was crying so hard. G became really concerned and I had to explain that I was crying because I miss my Dad so much. I really wish he could have been there to watch the movie with me. I wish he were still around. He died just before I really became interesting. Or, maybe it’s fair to say, I became more interesting because he died. I don’t know. It seems to me that when a parent dies, one really has to mature, no matter how young they are. Apparently, it was my time. I still can’t believe it’s been 21 years. I’ve lived without him for four more years than I lived with him. And I still cry because I miss him so much. I do so much that I know he’d love to do with me and I weep for the missed opportunities.
On the other hand, maybe I’m more the person I have become because he is a part of me in a way he could never have been had he remained alive. I don’t know. It doesn’t replace the sadness, but I do feel like he’d be proud of me. I think he’d smile watching me build and repair things. And maybe I do these things better because he is within me, rather than without.
I love you, Dad.
I won’t bother to critique the movie. The movie isn’t the point. The point is the emotion, and I sat there at one point crying like a baby. I was literally shaking I was crying so hard. G became really concerned and I had to explain that I was crying because I miss my Dad so much. I really wish he could have been there to watch the movie with me. I wish he were still around. He died just before I really became interesting. Or, maybe it’s fair to say, I became more interesting because he died. I don’t know. It seems to me that when a parent dies, one really has to mature, no matter how young they are. Apparently, it was my time. I still can’t believe it’s been 21 years. I’ve lived without him for four more years than I lived with him. And I still cry because I miss him so much. I do so much that I know he’d love to do with me and I weep for the missed opportunities.
On the other hand, maybe I’m more the person I have become because he is a part of me in a way he could never have been had he remained alive. I don’t know. It doesn’t replace the sadness, but I do feel like he’d be proud of me. I think he’d smile watching me build and repair things. And maybe I do these things better because he is within me, rather than without.
I love you, Dad.
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I haven't seen the movie yet.
I bet your dad would be proud :)
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If you know anything about Johnny Cash, then I'm not giving away any plot points, here. The movie is the same basic story of all the other celebrity singers of the era. They all got hooked on drugs and alcohol which either did or nearly destroyed them and/or their careers. The best part of this story was that Johnny was saved by the love of a good woman. This wasn't so for Billie Holiday, Elvis, Janis Joplin, etc. At least this one has a happy ending. It's well acted and, if you like his music, worth seeing in the $1.50 shows.
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