Pulling heartstrings

My alone-on-the-road status has resulted in quite a bit of alone-in-the-room time; and though I’ve tried to do a lot of reading, I must confess to allowing too much of that time to television viewing.

An amazing number of Christmas movies – many of the made-for-television variety – began flooding the cable-ways after Thanksgiving. And I am a bit of a sucker for this fare.

I’ve been saving the blockbusters, Wonderful Life; Miracle; Christmas Carol; and Christmas Story (with little Ralphie), for this week before Christmas. But I’ve seen at least a dozen other seasonal offerings, including one tonight, The Christmas Shoes.

Most of the films get to me – at least a little. I think it’s partly because I’m pretty open to being affected by the Christmas spirit, in a sappy sort of way.

I can’t seem to resist any new twist on Dickens’ classic – there must be twenty variations on that theme with all kinds of occupation and gender switches for the major characters. Knowing exactly what’s coming next doesn’t seem to eliminate the appeal for me.

Many other yuletide flicks deal with characters who rediscover tidings of comfort and joy just in time to celebrate Christmas Day. It’s obvious that they’ll undergo the appropriate transition – if I just stay tuned to the last reel. And I generally do.

I found myself reacting to tonight’s offering with quite a bit more emotion than usual. My eyes were watering, my chest was tightening and a familiar sense of sorrow settled upon me.

I had a similar set of sensations a few years ago watching an unheralded romance titled Return to Me.

As usual, it took a while for me to sort things out and realize why these two movies hit me so hard. Both stories deal with the death of a young wife because of heart disease.

My own 37-year-old bride succumbed suddenly to undiagnosed heart disease in 1999.

Recognizing that my subconscious can be a lot quicker on the uptake and can initiate my emotional response to various stimuli is rather unsettling.

This is where I should tie up all of the loose ends in this entry; but I’m afraid I don’t have it figured out. Moviemakers always manage to find an ending; I’m still working on mine.