Fine and Dandy

It really didn't surprise me when my son Brad decided to pursue a career in film. You see, that boy of mine has always loved movies. From the time he was a little guy, he was fascinated with the whole concept of films ... what began as watching movies evolved over time to a desire to make movies of his own, hence his decision to attend film school. One of the rather funny components of Brad's love affair with film is that he can quote countless movie lines ... word for word, even mimicking the voices of the actors who spoke the words in the original film. One of his favorite movies of all time is Forrest Gump, and trust me, he practically has every bit of dialogue from the film memorized. 

Brad has varied through the years as to which Forrest line he would quote for days or weeks on end ... I've often wondered if Brad's quote choice corresponded in some way to events that were taking place in his own life at the time. While different lines would come and go over the years, there was one in particular that Brad said more often than the others, and I sometimes thought that perhaps he didn't even realize how often he repeated the words. The first time that Jenny and Forrest meet on the school bus, Jenny asks Forrest what is wrong with his legs because he's wearing metal braces on them. Forrest's reply was, "Nothing at all, thank you. My legs are just fine and dandy."

Brad's been on my mind a lot over the last week or so, and when I think about Brad, I can't help but think about how he's always been the one of my three children who tried his best not to let me see when he was hurting ... consistently wanting to be strong, self-sufficient and independent. Brad's always been careful about the people he allowed himself to get close to, about how much of himself he was willing to let others see ... especially when it came to what he saw in himself as weakness or disappointment or failure. Perhaps guarded is the best word to use concerning Brad's willingness to let others in ... and perhaps that's a response that he learned from his mama. Yep, I've been guarded when it came to letting others in to the deepest parts of my heart, possibly because I've been wounded in the past by others whom I thought I could trust.

Brad, like me, has a code word answer when things in his life aren't going well and someone asks how he is ... "I'm fine." Those who know us well know that if we say we're fine, that means that we aren't really fine at all. If life is going well and all is as it should be, our answer is, without fail, "I'm great!" or "I'm good!" The "I'm fine" response generally is an attempt to cover how we really are ... hurting, scared, lonely, sick, exhausted ... or a multitude of other not-so-wonderful emotions or feelings.

The older I become, the more I think that most people want to hear a pat answer when they ask how you are ... it's uncomfortable to hear that someone is fighting a chronic disease or struggling in their job or having relationship issues or trying to overcome depression or grieving the death of a loved one. And the older I become, the more convinced I am ... or perhaps the more convicted I am ... that we need to be real with each other, that we need to be open and honest, that we need to stop hiding behind "fine and dandy" and speak the truth.

It seems fitting to end this post with another Forrest Gump quote, one that I've heard my Bradley say a gazillion times ... "That's all I have to say about that."