Reflections of Nora Ephron's Son

 

Nora Ephron

Crying is unsettling.  Especially if you are watching one of your parents do it.

 

My son hates it when I cry and has said that when I would cry all the time immediately after his father/my husband's death, he would feel this mix of emotions that he didn't want to feel and so he would walk away.  I understand it and think his reaction was perfectly normal.  He was thirteen years old and dealing with something that adults find hard to handle.  He was just trying to survive.

 

Now, at twenty two years old, my son explains his reaction this way: "When children see their parents cry, it's like a wall being broken.  It messes everything up.  I wanted you to be my Mom but when I saw you cry, it's like you weren't my Mom anymore.  You were a person and I didn't want that. I wanted my Mom."

 

It makes sense to me and I love him all the more for his insight; as painful as it was, and sometimes still is, for both of us.

 

That is why Jacob Bernstein's long and loving story about his mother, Nora Ephron, is so powerful and compassionate.

 

It's a universal story of how children feel about their parents as children, and as adults, and especially sons and their feelings about their mothers.

 

But having an accomplished, high-profile, multi-talented mother such as Nora Ephron is a unique story. And Jacob Bernstein writes it beautifully.  I knew it was a long story so I only intended to read the first page and then come back to it later, but then I couldn't stop reading it until I reached the end.

His mother is proud.  He took good notes.

Please click on this link to read Jacob Bernstein's story as it appeared in the New York Times magazine this past weekend:

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/10/magazine/nora-ephrons-final-act.html?_r=3&hp=&adxnnl=1&pagewanted=1&adxnnlx=1362652331-n02tv3ThoWXX1qcUk6JoRw

Finding The Words

I think the hardest thing about writing is writing.

 

                                               ~ Journalist, Author and Screenwriter Nora Ephron

During Sunday night's Academy Awards ceremony, tributes were paid to those in the film industry who passed away in the last year.  Nora Ephron most certainly was a bright twinkling star in her own right and the producers of the show chose to display the above quote in her honor.

Ephron was a keen observer of American culture and especially the stormy and romantic relationships between men and women.  Like most things Ephron wrote about she is spot on about trying to write. 

 

Writing is trying to get the words together in one sentence to reveal a truth.

Writing this blog for my readers is a wonderful, sometimes magical thing.  It has helped me process the grief of losing my husband and, in turn,  I do hope that it has helped others of you out there also trying to make sense of a loss whether it is a husband, a wife, a child, a parent or a good friend.  I never want anyone to feel isolated or alone in their despair.

 

Writing is something I feel I have to do and each time I sit down at the computer keyboard to write to you I try to do my very best.  Sometimes I feel I hit the bar of accomplishing what I set out to do and other days I wish I had a better brain so that something more insightful would have hit the page.

 

I enjoy writing but it also can be frustrating to find the right words to convey what I am feeling.  There is nothing more frustrating than staring at the blank screen and you know what you want to say but just don't know how to say it.  Writing can sometimes feel like trying to nail jello to the wall: elusive and messy.

 

Writing in particular about grief and a person's ability to bounce back from a loss is a tricky mission.  When I post my thoughts, I want to explain how shocked, how painful, how alone, how outside yourself you feel when someone you loves dies and how you feel totally lost.  But I don't want to sound whiney, dramatic or self-absorbed. 

 

Grief is a personal subject, almost intimate, yet it also univeral.

 

Whether you want to or not, at  some point in your life you will experience grief.  I can't say what it will be like for you or how long it will last because everyone's grief is different.

 

I also want to let you know that through my blog posts that with the passage of time, and it has been nine years for me since my husband died, the journey improves.  Step by step, day by day, you move forward.  It is slow and some days you may not feel the will to go on but that probably means you need to rest and recoup to garner strength.  You may not know where you are going but the act of moving helps you work through your jumbling emotions.

 

I have found that it takes positive energy, support from friends and family and a healthy way of living.  I know you will find your way.  It will reveal itself to you.

 

Thank you for reading Cry, Laugh Heal!!!  My readers are the best and I love hearing from you!!!

Nora Ephron

Nora Ephron
By Michel Arnaud/Corbis

As the very sad news broke that Nora Ephron had died at the age of 71 from acute myeloid leukemia, it was immediately apparent from reading people's tweets and posted comments that Ephron's death was a tragic surprise and no one wanted to accept the dismal fact that we would no longer be able to look forward to the creation of another amazing, magical piece of work from her.

As Vanity Fair writer David Kamp declared, "...New York without Nora Ephron is just plain wrong."

Her writing was sophisticated yet straightforward and she had a way of cutting through the big boy media noise to insightfully address politics, food, parenting, aging, male/female relationships and the American way of life in general.  She had a zest for life and she never stopped discovering and exploring, talking and collaborating, going for the next project.

I first discovered the multi-talented Nora Ephron back in the '70's when I read her books, "Crazy Salad" and "Scribble Scribble: Notes on the Media."  I immediately loved her smart and funny point of view and I continued to follow her career whether she was writing more books, magazine columns, screenplays or directing movies.

It's hard to pick a favorite of her many movies: Heartburn, Sleepless in Seattle, When Harry Met Sally, You've Got Mail, Silkwood, Julie and Julia but I think I have to go with Heartburn.

Ephron cleverly wrote Heartburn as thinly veiled fiction, telling the tale of her failed marriage to Washington Post reporter Carl Bernstein.  It is a truthful look at falling in love, vulnerability, and resilience.  Bernstein, of the famed Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein Washington Post team which uncovered the Watergate scandal, had an affair with Margaret Jay, the British Ambassador's wife, while he was married to Ephron and she was pregnant with their second child.

Rumors had been floating around Washington, DC about the state of their marriage and people couldn't wait to read Heartburn, which was later made into a movie starring Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson and was filmed in Washington, DC.

Her friends have written about her generosity and happiness and I think that definitely came through in a lot of her work.  She was the kind of woman you wanted to have as a best friend because you got the sense that you could call her and she would immediately understand what you were talking about and then the two of you would talk about it for hours.

Thank you Nora for being your amazing self!! I think this New York Times piece (including pictures) by Alessandra Stanley captures Nora Ephron best:

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/28/fashion/nora-ephrons-hollywood-ending.html?_r=1&hp

Sleepless in Seattle

Tom Hanks and Ross Malinger

When I watch the hysterically funny but poignant movie, "Sleepless in Seattle," one of my favorite scenes is when the character played by actress Rita Wilson tries to explain to  the character played by actor Tom Hanks and the other guys gathered round exactly why the incredibly romantic movie "An Affair To Remember" is only truly understood by women.

She starts to repeat dialogue from "An Affair To Remember" and sets up the scenes with Deborah Kerr (is it pronounced "Kerr" or Carr? I never can remember...") and Cary Grant.  Then Rita Wilson starts to cry as she remembers the ending of the movie and the men are just staring at her like she's crazy.  ("Is she always like this?")  Then the characters played by Tom Hanks and Victor Garber start comparing "An Affair to Remember" to "The Dirty Dozen," a men's movie about World War II and then they start crying about some scene involving guns and bombs and Trini Lopez.  It's all very funny!!!!

 The reason my memory was jogged about "Sleepless In Seattle" had to do with a tweet I read last week from Grief Speaks.  Grief Speaks tweets about loss and also is a website (www.griefspeaks.com) giving support to children, teens and adults who are coping with grief due to all different type of loss.

The tweet reminded me of something some of us are all too familiar with; the poignant side of "Sleepless in Seattle" when Tom Hanks finds himself in the throes of trying to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other and go on as a newly widowed man and also as a single parent.

The following dialogue from a very different scene in "Sleeepless in Seattle" is right on the money about why it's so hard to let go, to say good-bye, and move forward with your life without that beloved one:

 "Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: People who truly loved once are far more likely to love again. Sam, do you think there's someone out there you could love as much as your wife?

 Sam Baldwin: Well, Dr. Marcia Fieldstone, that's hard to imagine.

Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: What are you going to do?

 Sam Baldwin: Well, I'm gonna get out of bed every morning... breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won't have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out... and, then after a while, I won't have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while.

Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: Tell me what was so special about your wife?

Sam Baldwin: Well, how long is your program? Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic."