I just finished crying my way through “Field of Dreams” once again. I love baseball movies, although, I do not own many of them. They are my favorite things to watch. They make me smile and cry and cheer.
Once more I cried for the last ten minutes of the film. I knew I would. I can tune in at the last twenty minutes of this movie and know that I will cry for at least 10 minutes of the film. It’s just like that. When he asks his Dad for a catch, there is always a catch in my throat.
I think it hits me hard because there is a part of me that wishes I could turn around, see one of my parents, and have a conversation once more with them. To talk with them as an older adult, or in the case with my mom, talk with her as an adult. That leads my mind to think of several other things, of things that have changed, of families that have grown, grandchildren, which would be their great-grandchildren. Of course, that cannot happen.
It cannot happen and that is what makes watching this particular movie so touching. It brings out the what-ifs that graze quietly in the back of your mind. This movie also makes me think about dreams. The dreams we all have, of greatness, of fame, fortune, success. It suggests that sometimes the great fame and fortune is to have a quiet life doing things to serve others, as in the case of Burt Lancaster’s character.
All in all, it is one of my favorites. I haven’t watched it in entirety in a while. Tonight hubby and I picked it to watch and as usual, it didn’t disappoint us. If you haven’t seen it in a while, find a copy and watch it. Dream a bit. Think on it. And, if you are like me, keep the kleenex handy. Thanks for stopping by tonight. Cathi (DAF)