I Never Hugged My Mom

I have watched this film "Juste la fin du monde" a few times. Not sure why I watch it, it is not an enjoyable film. There are a couple of actors I recognize, Vincent Cassel and Marion Cotillard. Cotillard, I recognize from the film Inception.  Cotillard had a small role but pivotal and it is the same thing in this movie as well. Cassel was a hit man in the Jason Bourne movie. This film, Juste la fin du monde, is about a gay man who comes home to his Mom, sister and brother, to tell them he is dying. The family dynamics is filled with ugliness, resentment and no compassion. The film just makes me sad. I am not sure why I watched it. Maybe for the feelings it draws out?

I grew up knowing an alcoholic father, my Dad. It bothered me. I didn't like him as a result. I wondered how could a strong man, like my Dad, be so weak when it come to the drink. I hated it, that feeling of not liking my Dad. I adored my Dad, I loved him. My Mom in my eyes was a saint. We all say that about our Moms. In the movie, there is a scene with the young man, who is being talked to by his mom. At the end of the scene, despite the awkwardness of the mom's words, she hugs him and he hugs her back. That scene of the man hugging his mom, had me thinking. I never did hug my mom, even when she was dying of cancer. By the way, the English translation for the film title is "It's only the end of the world." It occurred to me as I was thinking of my Mom and how, for us, touching was not a thing our family did. As I see it now, and hear about it, not many families who grew up with the Indian Residential School experience, hugged each other as well. That is weird and funny. Since the Christian experience is one of love, charity and all the good stuff. 

The thing about it not hugging my Mom, my Dad or my Siblings, it is normal. It is not normal to hug them, never mind tell anyone you love them. But we are changing, I hug, I tell people I love them. It's not weird to hug or tell people you love them. I say it with my wife, my kids, grandkids and my nephews and nieces, it is great. I guess what I used to think about the hug, was it was intimate. To be intimate with your Dad or Mom was not right, gross a sin-like thing. Not sure how the message came to be in my brain, but it took up room in there, just saying "it's forbidden." 

In the movie, you hope there is a chance for some kind of good moment. Sadly the movie plot doesn't take you there, the hero just leaves the home without ever telling his family, he is going to go die. The film leaves you thinking about the future and how it must have been for the family. For me the hero in this story, my story, not that movie, but my movie, there is a twist, a good twist, a good feeling to the movie moment. It was about 25 years ago. I went to my friend David Blacksmith and his Teacher, the Elder Joe Esquash's Sundance Ceremony. It was at this Sundance where I fulfilled my personal obligation to drag Buffalo Skulls and give flesh offerings. I gave 35 flesh offerings, although very small cuts and dragged a number of skulls, maybe four skulls. It was after the cutting of my arms and the dragging of skulls where I hugged my wife and my Mom and Dad were there as well. I hugged my Mom and told her I loved her. This was the very first and last time I hugged my Mom. Granted, I was delirious and overcome with the emotions of sacrifice and ceremony, but I still count it as a win. It took an archaic, old Native ritual, once against the law, to provide me the opportunity to show, to say "I love you, Mom."