The Horse Whisperer and an infertility survivor’s journey
I’m not a big movie person. I confess I typically stick to my usual action and comedy genres – James Bond and the American Pie series are some of my favorites, to give you an idea. So when my husband, who rode horses throughout his childhood, and I sat down to watch The Horse Whisperer a few nights ago, I was expecting a good movie with beautiful cinematography and that’s about it.
About halfway through I started releasing full body sobs. The same again ¾ of the way through. Not the kind where, after a poignant scene tears seep gently from one’s eyelids. No, not that kind at all. It was the kind where you experience something so connective it’s as if you are witnessing the very core of your being in movie form. The kind where, at the end of the movie, you are gasping for air because the impact of its significance stole your breath.
“They – got – everything – I – don’t – know – how- they – did – that” were some of the first words I choked out, hoping to offer some explanation to my sweetly abiding husband. Read more