Writing is a journey, not a destination.

Search This Blog

Friday, June 4, 2010


This winter I watched Calendar Girls with mom. It's based on the true story of Chris and Annie of a small English village who make a "tastefully nude" calendar to raise funds to refurbish the cancer treatment family waiting room in the hospital. The fund raiser is prompted by the death of Annie's husband from leukemia.

One scene in particular got to me. Annie and John are sitting in a truck, staring out over a meadow as they try to talk through the elephant in the cab, namely his approaching death. Annie climbs into his lap and clutches at him.

All the longing of every living thing to hold onto that which leaves is in that few seconds of film. You know that were it possible, Annie would make John stay just through the force of her love. But it isn't possible, and it makes the rest of the movie (and her life) different.

In the comic book Elfquest, book 12, I think, Cutter has been mortally wounded. By the time his wife Leetah the healer is able to reach him, he's at death's door. His tribe, suffering their own wounds from the battle with trolls, gathers outside the small room as one more battle is fought to keep their chief with them in flesh as well as spirit. Nightfall and Redlance are huddled together, praying to their ancestors as Nightfall says, "Leetah, if love alone can give you strength, add all of mine to yours."

When Rose and the Doctor are separated that last time, you just know if it were possible, one of them would rip the universe apart if it would help.

Loss is a powerful motivator. It should change everything for the one who experiences it.

And, not caring for loss myself, I thought of a solution for Rose and The Doctor. She is in a parallel universe. Is it too much to hope it has its own Doctor with his own TARDIS and his own fascination with protecting Earth? I think it's possible.

Gotta have my happy ending.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.