This movie and I had a history. This is the second time we got it through Netflix--I don't remember what the first one was, but I think we decided it was too depressing at the time. We received it again in the mail about three weeks ago, and only just now got around to watching it. It was one of those movies that everyone said was great, but I had a hard time believing.
It is the story of Jean-Dominic Bauby, the editor of the magazine Elle. He has a massive stroke, and it results in a rare condition where the only thing he can do, other than think, is blink his left eye.
His first reaction, predictably, is to want to die. I can only imagine what the horror of the realization was like, being trapped inside one's own body. It is interesting that his father has alzeihmer's, and cannot leave his apartment. At one particularly poignant moment, his father calls Jean-Dominic and compares their imprisonments.
Eventually, Jean overcomes his desperation, with the help of a particularly determined speech therapist, and begins to write a book, dictating by blinking his left eye when the therapist says the correct letter. It would take hours for him to write a few simple sentences. It was a herculean task, to say the least.
He comes to the realization that his memories and his imagination cannot be taken away from him. He lives within those, interacting as richly as possible with his children, with those who surround him, with life itself.
It is a beautiful tale, one that haunts the viewer long after the credits have ended. How it all went so wrong for this rich and successful man--so suddenly, so unexpectedly, so painfully. Everything was wrenched apart in a moment, and never would it be the same. Was it better? In some ways, perhaps.
This movie leaves me with a sense of desperation, to treasure the moments in which I reside, to love those closest to me and revel in the abundant grace of God that surrounds me. Life is a precious gift, and may we not underestimate the glory of a simple hug, the wonder of an autumn walk, and the pure blessing of feeling the wind whistling through our hair. May we thank God for what we have today, and while we dream for tomorrow, may we not forget that life is a pure gift.
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