I found myself at the Majestic 10 theater Sunday afternoon for the matinee showing of Ramona and Beezus, a movie adaptation of the ever popular children’s book series by Beverly Cleary. The cinema was packed with moms and their young daughters, mostly. And there were 20- and 30-somethings, like us, who had read the books when we were the same age as the giggling little ones around us. Before the movie there were previews of upcoming films for kids, including a Pixaresque revival of the most beloved little creatures of my childhood (you could argue for the Fraggles, but I personally found them boring), the Smurfs! The sweet “la, la, la, la, la, la” theme music had been jazzed up with a hip-hop beat in the background, but you get the picture. The Hollywood producers have the right idea, coming out with movies that are nostalgic for the parents, who really determine ticket sales, and will be just as enjoyable for the kids. The other thing I noticed is that I didn’t see one previewed movie that wasn’t going to be presented in 3D. And you’ll probably see me at many a one, wearing big, goofy glasses and waving my hands out in front of me to touch the little blue men who aren’t really there. But back to Ramona Quimby.
I was actually excited to see this film, and it really lived up to my expectations. I will say that, despite the name, the movie didn’t have much to do with the dynamic between Ramona and her big sister, nicknamed Beezus, at all. There were a few nice, sisterly love-hate scenes, but it was mostly about Ramona herself. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that I liked the movie. If someone asked me, I would say, “Yeah, it was cute.” But it occurred to me that I was sitting between two women (Matea and Georgia) who had grown up in a house full of sisters (two each), and who probably made much more of a connection to the characters than I.
I grew up with good ole Charlie boy. We played and fought and loved each other as much as any two siblings possibly could, I think. He was 5 years younger than me, and I admit to taking advantage and knocking him around a lot. (He should admit that he took advantage of his age and cried unnecessarily at times just to get me in trouble!!) I helped him learn to play baseball on countless nights in the yard. I would make him remove his glove and do “frog hops” as punishment if he let a ground ball go through his legs. You can’t believe how angry he would get. He’d throw his glove down as hard as he could, his little cheeks as red as fire. But he would do those frog hops, and I would throw him ground balls and pop flies again and again, always giving him scenarios a la “if a man’s on first, where are you throwing the ball?” Even today we still laugh at the same things and react similarly when presented with situations that…need reacting to. But Matea has told me for years that, when it comes to the bond between sisters, I “just don’t get it.”
When I first started spending an inordinate amount of time at the Morris household, Matea’s sisters were, I believe, about 10 (Becca) and 12 (Brielle). Brielle, being the loving extrovert she was, took to me pretty quickly. She was inquisitive—good grief, the questions she would ask me—and hilarious and easily became one of my best friends over the years. Becca was not so easy. My first memory of Becca is of her angrily slamming a door in my face. I can’t begin to remember why. I was probably doing all I could to annoy her, which was all I knew about being a sibling. What I didn’t “get,” as Matea would say, is that she might have just been reacting like a jealous sister, not just an annoyed sibling. She was sulking like Ramona did when Beezus called her a pest. But now that Becca has grown up…literally, now that she’s an adult and living here in VT, she is one of my favorite people to spend an afternoon with. Through the years, I laughed and cried with both of “the girls,” as everyone called them. I put them through what could be called frog hops, and they probably did what they could to get me in trouble from time to time. It became sort of a rent-to-buy situation, where they were sort of on loan to me on the weekends, and then they just naturally moved beyond being merely my sometimes sisters.
I never had a Beezus (although I did persuade Charlie to dress up like a girl on more than one occasion), but I did have a Berle and Bekia. Brielle is always in my heart and almost as often on my mind. None of us is as good as we could have been with her guidance and example. And I savor my silent car rides and inside jokes with Becca. We’ll always be there for each other during unpleasant chores, violent movies, and guilty pleasure video games. Becca has taught me graciousness, magnanimity, and patience.
Matea (well, I should really say Marmee), thank you for giving me a taste of sisterhood.
4 years ago
