Crying

It's been a while since I cried.

That was before I watched Cinderella Man.

It isn't a typical come-back movie. Still, it is moving. I cried several times.

Like the Great Depression, the transition from riches to rags was swift and ruthless. It wasn't explained. We were not forewarned.

It just came.

The film resonated with me for several reasons.

A silent, suffering hero. That's what I try to be. Already I'm silent and somewhat suffering. Not too sure about the hero part though.

A man of integrity. Guilty again - of not being the man I want to be, of not being the man I almost is.

The love between a man and wife. Not partners, not friends, but the love between a man and wife. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. Cliches yes. But let not words get in the way of life.

I pause to remember the devastating scene of the provision shop owner at the deathbed of his wife in Khoo's Be With Me.

A great depression. A loss of jobs, no food on the table, work with hands. And God is where?

The film had such an impact on me that I went straight to the bookstore to look for the biography of James Braddock. They had only the book adaptation of the movie which is usually almost always a spawn of Satan.

The Central library has a copy - a biography, a real book.

I was hoping to cry again at the Emmys. No such luck.

These days, a man has to buy a ticket to cry.