It is Sunday again, which is either the end of a week, or the beginning of a new one, depending on who you ask. This small debate is often held in my house, as we all have a different opinion, but thankfully the sweating of this type of small stuff is generally only done in fun. Last Sunday night we had the pleasure of attending the final viewing of the very last movie ever to be screened at one of Adelaide’s historical cinemas The Chelsea. The tickets were offered to us on Saturday and I was reluctant to say yes because night-time and I don’t get along so well these days, but also the noise of a large group, and then trying to keep up with a movie is very challenging. Anyway, I decided to go for three reasons; firstly we both loved going to the movies and used to go often, almost a ritual on Friday nights, an early dinner and then a movie at a cinema called the Trak (who have been granted the tender to take over the Chelsea). We’d just arrive and buy tickets to whatever movie we thought we’d enjoy, or simply, we that hadn’t seen before. Occasionally it was a disaster, but mostly we either loved what we saw, or it opened our mind and eyes and was interesting. Pete really misses going to the movies, so last Sunday night was also a bit of a treat for him. The third reason to go apart from sharing time with friends was the historical moment of the occasion. We were very late home, but not let down. The event was moving and interesting. The Wallis Cinema at Kensington was set inside an historical and beautiful old Art Deco building, which had been earmarked for demolition in 1964, to be replaced by a petrol station. Thankfully the council back then had the foresight to purchase the building to prevent its destruction. The movie we watched, called The Artist, “the black-and-white, silent French arthouse film set in the 1920s, with a leading man who looks like Errol Flynn, and a performing Jack Russell who gets the best gags. It was once considered so bonkers and such an appalling commercial risk that when French producers went begging for cash in Paris TV channels laughed in their face, asking who in the 21st century would watch a silent film on a Saturday night.” It was a perfect selection for the occasion, as it is about the new guard taking over from the old, and in the final few scenes the Chelsea cinema was superimposed into the film. It was also a wonderful movie, surprisingly so, and although I’ve forgotten most of the detail, the feelings and emotions about the changing of the guard (talking movies replacing silent movies) have stayed with me. Today, a week later, when I got out of bed I felt the need to be silent for a while, almost to the point of not posting a daily blog or Project 366 chat. A lazy start to the day with my beautiful cat Star on my lap has re-inspired me, but there is chaos in my head and heart to be dealt with before I blog again tomorrow, and a lonely but enticing Sunday ahead.
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I know how hard it is to cope in these crowed noisy situations. It never ceases to amaze me how you continue to do things for me to help our life maintain some sort of normality. As much as possible on our dementia train journey. I often think that because of the enormous effort that you put into things to participate come at a huge cost to you. People who are not there to pick up the pieces after your herculean efforts pass judgement on you. I’m never quite sure whether it is stupidity on their part or jealously for what you are achieving. And achieving you are, most people merely exist or do things for their own gain, very few will make the world a better place. I have always loved you but more importantly I respect and admire you.
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Thank you, as always our love for each other will get us through xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Glad you enjoyed the film, proud that it’s French!
and I wonder (I’m always trying to be politically correct when I write comments, and I know you must hate political correctness), I wonder whether the outing was easier for you because there was no dialogue? Was it easier not to have to follow words? or not? And I also wonder whether very old people, such as my mother who is 95, get this feeling of loneliness, isolation, even when there are people around? It would explain certain behaviours.
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I’m mid way through writing about loneliness in more detail… and you are right about political correctness and me, we just don’t get on!! And you should feel proud about the silent movie, it was truly wonderful. I hadn’t thought about it being easier to manage because of the silence, but think probably so. Take care…
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Noooooo!! Not the Chelsea =( =( How sad.
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sunday for me is the end of the week. part of the two day weekend. we seldom do much on weekends as trevor often gets called into work or has business trips interstate. today trevor and toni still in the pool and i am still in my jarmies, oh well, i only just had breakfast. lazy sundays are the best…by the way, i did complete toni’s 100 leaders last night so that can go off to kelly tomorrow. have a lovely lazy day….i just wish you weren’t lonely :((((
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thanks Wendy, and what a lovely thing to still be in your pj’s when you replied! Re being lonely, it is just part of the dementia journey as even though you might be with family or friends, the feeling of being vague and disconnected a lot of the time causes feelings of loneliness, lots of others I know with dementia talk about this too. and I look forward to reading Toni’s story too, let me know when it is up xx
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Well done you on being able to complete the task and capture the moment so beautifully. It is raining here and we are having a lazy sunday as well.
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