"Everybody's Fine..."

I watched a move on my day off; it was sobering and sad. It is the story of a widowed father's pursuit of his children and their reluctance to embrace him. His wife has been the proverbial "glue" that held the family together and handled the communication. Now that she is gone, the father seeks to take on her role, after a history of heavy-handedness, high expectations and immersion in his work, all which he insists he has done for the sake of his family.

His now grown children are all going through their own struggles, none of which he has been privy to (hidden from him by his wife); upon visiting them he is perceptive enough to discover that life has been painfully hard--even though there are vestiges of success around them--and that their affirmative responses to his critical question, "Are you happy?" are a mask for their real unhappiness.

Nestled in the middle of this drama is the unfolding tragedy of the youngest son, who, before the movie is over, will die of a drug overdose. He is the son Robert Deniro--the father on display--has treated the most harshly in his attempt to motivate him to succeed as an artist and there is a moment of truth when he nearly dies from a heart attack and he confronts the shortfall of his own life. Though it is too late to make amends with his youngest son--he later discovers his son credits him for prodding him to success as an artist--he has a renewed opportunity for reconciliation with his other three children.

I fought some of those same battles as a father--working too many hours ("for them"--I would react defensively), driving my children (sometimes away) because of my perfectionism and not always being a good listener (because I was too busy talking). There were a few tears shed as I watched and did my own personal inventory.

Here's the good news. My kids are a success by anyone's standards. They survived me, and, now, though we might have differing opinions about my failures, I can be comfortable in the relationship we enjoy today. My children live on Nashville, Dallas and London, and I see them once or twice a year (not nearly enough!), but we are always in communication, and, gladly, it didn't take a heart attack to remind me of what matters most. It is the relationships in which we invest that bring the most joy, and, sometimes, sadness. When we know are chidlren are suffering, we experience a certain indescribable kind of pain. But what brings us our greatest happiness are those isolated moments when we know that "everybody's fine".

Go see the movie. Is "everybody fine" in your family?