Family Stone

Thanks to my Netflix membership, I've been enjoying Christmas movies up the yin yang. We're talking about back-to-back Holiday Inn and White Christmas features, which by the way, I don't recommend. I adore both, but they were shot using the same set, so it's a little strange.

Love Actually had it's moment, as did Meet Me in St. Louis. And now folks, we're on to The Family Stone. (man, is IMDB convenient!) I love The Family Stone. I remember how it was billed as this raucous comedy, when really it's a sweet family love story. Not romantic love, family love.

There's a scene where one of the daughters joins her napping mother. Each time I watch it, I swell with the memory of taking naps with my mom. I can remember the feel of the quilt on her bed, the softness of her pillow and the comfort and safety of those moments. Even though I know I'll never take another nap with my mother - and it's sort of sad - I love how a movie can take me back so viscerally.

That's why I love Christmas movies. You watch them every year, surrounded by familiar objects (my coral painted santa, three wise men and snow babies have been around forever). It smells the same - like evergreen and chocolate chip cookies baking.

And the best part about watching the same movies, over and over, year after year? While the movies don't change - Bing still croons and the Haynes Sisters still dance - you do. Each year, I'm older and supposedly wiser and I bring a whole year's worth of experiences, mistakes, expectations and growth to the tradition.

I know - after this hellacious year - I'm getting something out of this. Mainly comfort, but maybe next year (c'mon 2010) I'll get something even better. Whew, I knew I could make this post end with an optimistic slant.

ps. "You have the freak flag, Meredith, you just don't fly it." - The Family Stone