Movies have always been important to me. It took some time to put it all together, but as I got older I realized my childhood fascination with going to the movies wasn't just a pastime, but a survival mechanism. My mother was ill and the cinema was an escape from the inexplicable things that were happening at home.Oddly enough during my own treatment movies did not provide an escape for me. In fact it was quite the opposite.
Saturdays were a different story. My bi-weekly chemo sessions became routine even as the side effects mounted. Soon everything tasted and smelled like what I imagine a battery would taste and smell like if you cut it in half. I learned to bundle myself up when I went outside and I used oven mitts to get the milk out of the fridge.
Saturdays became lazy days. We'd stay in, glued to the TV, and I thought back to when my mom wasn't feeling well and we'd watch "Three's Company." She found John Ritter hilarious and the show never failed to bring a smile to our faces. It struck me many years later that these are the moments that comprise life. It's rarely the big details that linger, but the small, often insignificant details that have a lasting effect.