It Really Is a Wonderful Life
In December of 2014, my at-the-time girlfriend (and future wife) left for a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She was destined to serve in the Milan, Italy mission- a place that her ancestors hailed from (more on that another time).
As a heart wrenching ālast hurrahā with her, we planned on spending our last day having fun and making memories. This didnāt last long as the pain of the impending goodbye was just too much for me to bear. I begged her for relief and asked if I could drive her home and we could cut things offācold turkey. She reluctantly obliged and I took her home in my dadās gold, 2007 Ford F-150, making sure to put the bench seat up so my girlfriend could sit right next to me while I drove her the quick five minute route to her home.
We pulled up to her house- a place where her lips had, historically, āgot in the wayā of ending our nights together; and we realized this evening would be the last time we would speak for at least 18 months.
We both cried and tried to think of things to say to prevent her from getting out of the car. After accepting our destiny, she left. With tear filled eyes, she sauntered up to the door, unlocked it with her key, and went inside.
I sat, parked in my dadās truck, sobbing. For 30 minutes, I couldnāt gain enough composure to safely drive home. This girl had been the only thing that kept me alive, literally, for the past year and a half and now i felt like I had no one. My siblings had all flown the coop, my mom and dad were working their tails off to make ends meet, and Iād have to go back to a life that I had no interest in living.
I finally got ahold of myself enough to drive home. As I came in the front door to that warm light my parents somehow magically created in our home, there were my mom and dad, cozied up in our living room with the TV on. They knew what I had just gone through and had probably cried a bit while I was goneāthey loved my girlfriend (probably more than me, most of the time). However, they didnāt speak about it. They knew it wouldnāt help (another A+ move by themns).
They had a moving playing: āItās a Wonderful Lifeā. I sat down in the empty rocking chair, numb from the emotional pain I had just endured, and stared blankly at the screen, habitually checking my phone to see if my girlfriendās name would appear on a notification. That notification wouldnāt come now; not for a long time, at least.
Soon enough, I checked my phone again. A text message was there to greet me, and my girlfriendās last name was on it; but this text was instead from my girlfriendās younger sister. She informed me that my girlfriend was doing about as well as I was. I asked what she was doing and Mallory told me that she was blankly watching āItās a Wonderful Lifeā. I became obsessed with the movie in that instant. At that time, it was the only way I could be connected to her. Somehow I knew that, if we could still be together, weād be watching this movie, snuggled up under two blankets, her beautiful hair on my shoulder, my hand squeezing hers probably a bit too hard.
My dad turned on āItās a Wonderful Lifeā every year at Christmas. I always hated it. No color? How am I even supposed to focus on this silly, stupid, old film? There was no action, the romance was so foreign to me, and I honestly had no idea what the storyline wasāhow could I with this endless dialogue?
But that fateful 2014, it all changed. I watched the film with new eyes (albeit red and dry from the tears). George Baileyās fateful journey of battling fear-driven depression and taking care of others really stuck out to me now! Perhaps there was a reason my dad turned into a blubbering mess every year with this movie. I found myself invested in the plot and the characters. Little did I know, every year from here on out, Iād discover more and more how amazing this movie really was. Now, Christmas would never be celebrated if this film didnāt grace my TV.
The first time I watched it (I mean really watched it) that December night in 2014, I loved it because it connected me to my girl.
In 2015, I found the story deep. I realized that George Bailey was struggling with the desire and logic of killing himself. It was an amazing plot! Something I could relate to while trying to discover who I was and get out of that silly, stupid, crummy old high school.
In 2016, after desperate attempts to get my wife back after her mission, I found myself cozied up with her once more; watching this film in each others arms for the first time. This time, Iām not sure I got much out of it. After all my fiancĆ©, was right next to me and she was going to be my wife in a mere month.
In 2017, 2018, and 2019, I found myself loving the film in new ways. Loving the community coming together to save George from his life-threatening predicament. I had been through a suicide attempt in this time period and knew exactly how George felt standing at the edge that proverbial bridge. I felt his repeated sacrifices seeming to mean nothing. I felt his struggle and his triumph! Until youāve been truly depressedātruly thought Iām more valuable dead than alive, you may not be affected by this portion of the film as I (and many others) are.
In 2020, 2021, and 2022 I was blasted by the fact that George was a dad. How did he go though all of these trials while raising children? And four of them! His struggles manifested themselves to me in a new light: living for something greater than yourself. While I love my wife and she is my number one priority, the responsibility to the kids sheās given me really drives me in new and different ways than when she and I were tag-teaming life as DINKYs (dual-income no kids yet).
And here I am in 2023. Watching the film with that same, dream girl right beside me. And you know what hits me this year? Mary, Georgeās wife. Georgeās mom says Mary is the type of girl who could really āhelp you find the answersā. Isnāt that what we all need? What would I be without my Mary? How many times has my Mary phoned the proverbial town saying āChristopher needs helpā. How many times have I trashed my proverbial office in front of our children, and my Mary asked them to pray for me: teaching them true love and understanding. How many times has my Mary baked bread for those in need, brought treats to the troops? Mary is the true hero of the film just as Kelcy is the true hero of my life. After all, āif life were a movie, [sheās] the best partā.
Iām sure Iāll find more nuggets of wisdom as I watch this film every year. Iām sure it will hit different when I lose parents, when I struggle to help those less fortunate, when I run into career struggles. But for now, Iām just going to sit back and let Christmas time be official- as Iāve now watched the film this year.
Throughout these past 7 years, Iāve had my ups and downs just like George Bailey of Bedford falls. But, just like him, Iām learning more and more every day that it really is a wonderful life.