Reading Twilight

I bought a copy of the book, "Twilight" to read during my recuperation. I'm almost done with it and I find myself at an odd place. I like it and yet I'm disturbed by the underlying message of it.

The basic premise can be summed up with high school angst vampire love story. Human girl likes vampire boy. Vampire boy could kill human girl. Continually resists. Love blooms.

The writing is compelling enough that I'm reading it, so obviously I can't fault it. If you're reading it and you have no reason you have to, then the writing is more than adequate. The conflict is the continual "I want to drink your blood" drama.

I guess my problem with it - as with most "romance" stories - is that I don't find that particularly romantic. Even if I believed in vampires and love at first sight and everything else that is required, why would I want to be with someone for whom my mere presence is that traumatic? Not to mention why would I want to be with someone who is continually struggling to not kill me. Is that Domestic Violence in Waiting?

I know, it's supposed to be all beautifully tragic. I get it. I just need a little reality with my love story - even if it involves a vampire. I realize this leaves me out of the loop - that people everywhere love this book, which is now a movie. And I'm guessing it's a beautiful, atmospheric, movie. There's a lot there to work with and I'll want to see the flick eventually.

Things other people get just escape me. When Bridges of Madison County came out every woman I knew was thrilled with the romantic story. I didn't get it. At all. It's a story about a woman cheating on her husband, who's never done anything but provide for her and their children to the best of his abilities. Admittedly, he might not be the most exciting man on the planet, and I know the charm of photographers - I've dated four of them. But there is nothing about adultery I find charming. Nothing.

There's also nothing I find charming about being with someone who is struggling to not kill me. And I'm not sure that's the sort of message I'd want my teenage girl to be absorbing. But, of course, if I had a teenage girl I'd have very little actual control over what she was reading/seeing - despite what we like to think - and so all you can do is hope people are able to think things through logically and realize this is just a fantasy world and not something one wants in real life.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.

One Week

It has been one week, almost to the minute, since we left here for surgery. I'm home, with the word that it was benign, feeling like sitting upright and writing. I can only attribute that to the power of prayer, medical miracles and the skill of people willing to share their wisdom. I am astonished at how good I feel overall, here just a week out.

Last week when we left to go to the hospital, there was an ice storm underway. I'll tell you a sight I will never forget that morning. I was sitting in the car in the driveway, warming it up before taking off, and thinking we would be the only people on the road. Then, in my rearview mirror, while I'm bundled up in my big winter coat, hat and gloves, I see a truck gliding by on the street in front of my house. As I sat there, the tail lights from my car illuminated the logo for Releaf Landscapes on Sharon's truck. She had come over to follow us to Wichita, just in case we had some sort of difficulty, and to wait with Greg.

It's a special category of friend who will follow you on an hour's drive in an ice storm beginning at 3:40 in the morning, knowing the day is stretching out ahead and could be filled with trauma. I haven't even known Sharon very long, and yet she was there with me for days after surgery, aiding me in many different ways. She was truly an angel of mercy in this whole thing. She took some of the pressure off Greg, too, and that was wonderful.

I knew she was planning to wait with Greg that day, but didn't realize she was driving over with us. I assumed Greg had called her that morning to tell her of our preparations, but he hadn't. She had known the time we were planning to leave and had just shown up.

One thing that has been a repeated message for me through this experience is how important it is to "show up." Mark, Carl and Kris just "showed up" with food. Ann just showed up at the hospital the day of surgery. Visitors showed up, cards showed up, flowers showed up, prayers showed up. I need to make sure I always show up in the future.

I may not have a beautiful green leafed logo that glides by in the pre-dawn darkness on an icy morning, lit only by tail lights, but I can show up, nonetheless.
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Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com.

All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.