Brave is more than a movie (Spoilers)

Brave is hard. Brave is tossing out the clichés and adverbs. Brave is taking the time to find the right word. Thank you dictionary.com. 

Brave is reading what you write and asking is that me. When it isn’t, because it never is the first second or sometimes even the final published time, brave is saying "I’ll try harder next time."

Brave is scraping off the layers and getting to the core which for me is my Catholicism which I can’t escape no matter how hard I try.

The Catholic Church: the meek shall inherit the earth.  Me now: Oh that is such bullshit. But maybe not.

Here’s a journey toward brave, Pixar version: 

We’re in Cinema North on a steamy July afternoon. Brave, the Pixar movie, is playing. We’re in the fifth row from the front, in the lowest point, in between the wave of seats that rise to meet the screen, and right before the rows start to swell toward the back. 

The movie is sweet though I seem to have grown a sand paper garden in my stomach. I can’t ignore the little swipes to my internal membranes. Those rough petals hurt. 

Brave is about a daughter battling with her mother for the right to be her own person. I know this fight. I am a daughter. I am a mother of two daughters. 

The movie has flaws, but not enough to interfere with the message I’m receiving like a punching bag now.  I’m surprised it hurts so much. I’m a grown-up now. I’m feeling like an idiot.

We’re at the climax. It’s the scene where Merida’s father is about to kill the bear, who is actually Merida’s mother under a spell put there by Merida who cast it impetuously because her mother didn’t understand her. (Wow. Mouthful. Sorry.)

Her mother wanted her to be someone she is not.

   

Merida points her sword. The tip is inches from her father’s heart.  Throughout the movie, we see that Merida relates more to her dad than her mom. So their close relationship further heightens the drama of this scene. 

Merida is raw fury. She will murder her father whom she loves in order to save her mother. It’s her moment of truth. She’s finally realized the enormity of what she’s done. She finally realizes how careless and stupid and self-centered she is. She didn’t appreciate her mother. She sacrificed true love. 

Yeah. You go Merida. 

 

You had love in your hands, and you gave it up. . .   So bow down to her if you want, bow to her. Bow to the Queen of Slime, the Queen of Filth, the Queen of Putrescence. Boo. Boo. Rubbish. Filth. Slime. Muck. Boo. Boo. Boo. (That’s the Ancient Booer’s speech from Princess Bride.)

Her movie name is really truly The Ancient Booer. 

There's a guttural sound coming from Merida now. It is subhuman. Painful. The Alpha and the Omega. It is the sound of ultimate human suffering. It is this: "You will not murder my mother."

It is the Christ moment. 

You can hear the sharp intake of breath from the two adult females in the fifth row. 

My right hand goes to my mouth and the scream stays inside. It becomes a bubble then a tumor then cracks and dissolves to liquid and comes out in tears.

Here's real life brave, on the phone this morning. The subject is chemo. 

"It's pretty long. Boring. Takes about three hours. We tell dirty jokes to pass the time." 

We're not dead yet.