Listening to movie scores while reading blogs written by missionaries in Africa is dangerous.
Movie scores are, by design, the emotional backdrop to an ongoing story. When that story is the daily trials of a missionary doctor working in Africa, well, let's just say there are tears.
It's no secret that I'm a crier. I didn't used to be this way, but a series of events led to a bout with depression and I've been a crier ever since. Pregnancy took the crying up a notch. And now being a mom, let's just say it doesn't take much to make me well up. I'm not the kind of crier that boo hoos when I don't get my way. I want to be clear that it is not a manipulation tool. I'm the kind of crier who gets weepy over anything heartwarming, tragic, or emotional. For example, the movie UP... oh. my. gosh. ...is the saddest cartoon I've ever seen. I cried at the beginning. I cried at the middle. I cried at the middle again. I cried at what I thought was the end. I cried at the real end. I was a sniveling mess when the movie was over. Another example: when G was a couple months old I read him Love You Forever. Big mistake. He lay there in my arms, this helpless little bundle looking up at me, while I sobbed through the book. What was I thinking reading that story to my infant son?
So back to movie scores. G loves classical music. It's his favorite, especially when he's kind of crabby. He woke up from his nap early this afternoon and was fading fast this evening, so I loaded up pandora to give him some soothing classical music before bed. There were a few channel options, and I landed on movie scores for something a little different than the typical Beethoven and Mozart we usually choose. All was well, G crashed early, and I decided to catch up on some blog reading while dinner was in the oven. And I left the movie scores playing.
One of the blogs I follow is called Paradoxuganda. It's the blog of a "pair of docs," doctors, who have been living and working in Uganda. (Africa is full of paradoxes...catch the play on words?) Sometimes I read every word, sometimes I just skim. I was way behind, so this time I was skimming, until I came to this post.
International Women's Day.
With the movie score from some random film playing in the background, I read about the strength of women. And I cried.
I cried for the women in the blog post. I cried for the women whose stories will never be told. I cried for the women I know. Women who are strong and brave and beautiful. Women who have experienced pain and heartbreak and loss that I will never know, but time and again are joyful and proud and gracious. I am honored to be a woman next to them.