Fantasia
October 18, 2019
When I was about 14 my Mom took me out to see a Disney film at a small theatre in Windsor. She remembered watching Disney films on the big screen when she was younger and she wanted me to see them in that format, too. My older sisters were grown and out of the house, but she thought that I might be interested in going to see Fantasia with her because I liked music.
But I was also a teenager, which is a tricky time for a mother and daughter. I thought it was not going to be "cool" to go, so it took some convincing to agree. I finally decided to go with her, probably rolling my eyes all the way. However, when I actually got into the theatre and the movie started to play, I found that I actually really liked it. It wasn't just a cartoon movie, it was arty and kind of different. My Mom was happy that I was enjoying it, and she was enjoying it, too. She wasn't really a "movie" person, so this was a rare occasion for her.
Unfortunately, it was also cold and flu season and as I sat in the darkened theatre I started to feel really terrible. Whatever bug I had picked up earlier decided to make itself known to me as the film played. I sat sweating and feeling nauseous but determined to finish the movie. My Mom looked at me, looked at the screen, and had to kiss goodbye our special Disney movie together so we could go home and she could take care of me.
And that's the story of a Mom's life. Pushing you to try something you don't want to do, seeing a spark in you you didn't know you had, then having to deprive yourself of something you want to do in order to help that same kid in a different way. (And putting up with eye rolling and sarcasm the whole time.)
Years later I bought Mom a copy of Fantasia when it came out on video, but she was right. It just wasn't the same on the small screen. I wish we could have finished it at the theatre together.
But I was also a teenager, which is a tricky time for a mother and daughter. I thought it was not going to be "cool" to go, so it took some convincing to agree. I finally decided to go with her, probably rolling my eyes all the way. However, when I actually got into the theatre and the movie started to play, I found that I actually really liked it. It wasn't just a cartoon movie, it was arty and kind of different. My Mom was happy that I was enjoying it, and she was enjoying it, too. She wasn't really a "movie" person, so this was a rare occasion for her.
Unfortunately, it was also cold and flu season and as I sat in the darkened theatre I started to feel really terrible. Whatever bug I had picked up earlier decided to make itself known to me as the film played. I sat sweating and feeling nauseous but determined to finish the movie. My Mom looked at me, looked at the screen, and had to kiss goodbye our special Disney movie together so we could go home and she could take care of me.
And that's the story of a Mom's life. Pushing you to try something you don't want to do, seeing a spark in you you didn't know you had, then having to deprive yourself of something you want to do in order to help that same kid in a different way. (And putting up with eye rolling and sarcasm the whole time.)
Years later I bought Mom a copy of Fantasia when it came out on video, but she was right. It just wasn't the same on the small screen. I wish we could have finished it at the theatre together.