Seven Pounds - Where do I even begin? Wow. I’m actually left pretty speechless as to why I’d never seen or heard about this movie before yesterday.
I can remember very vividly, sitting in a
room hole, no bigger than a bathroom stall, crying my eyes out over all the horrible things I had done in my past, and all the people that I had hurt, both past and present, and wondering just how I was going to make up for all these horrible things. Twenty-one days later, still sitting in the same place, I had no clearer answer than I did before.
I’m not going to give away the whole movie, but I will say… There isn’t any distance too far, that would come between me and my desire to “make right” what I had made wrong, if *I* was the one sitting on those rocks overlooking the ocean. To be holding the heavy, heavy thoughts and emotions
Ben Tim was holding, I can’t honestly say I would have done any different than he (just not as methodically thought out - ‘cause I ain’t got no M.I.T. edumacation). The two M.I.T. graduates I know, think every single part of their life out before doing it. Every. Single. Part. Dissecting wasn’t ever my favorite thing to do anyway, so my lackluster way of thinking might give 1/4 pound to someone in need, instead of SEVEN pounds. (Meaning you’re more likely to get a 1/4lb kidney from me than a 7lb heart.)
When the movie was over, I again, turned off the faucets in my eyes, wiped the stream of tears from my face, and said very seriously, “Um. So what the heck does that have to do with seven pounds?” When RM#1 said she didn’t know either, my perplexity peaked, and I turned to JK for the answer. “Seven pounds is how much the human heart weighs.” Hmm. I’m certain this was something I was supposed to learn in elementary school, and I admit there were a few days I missed due to parental divorce issues, but I truly do not remember learning this. Did they reteach this in high school biology class, cause I know I ditched that class more times than I attended.
Almost 24 hours later, I kind of feel like I did after watching The Usual Suspects for the first time. Completely speechless and unable to comprehend what the idea was about without sitting down and dissecting each section of the movie. It’s a strange feeling, and one I’m not completely comfortable with.
Overall, movie was great. Shelf worthy. In those two hours, I spent more time crying than not. Here’s the kicker, I DON’T KNOW WHY! Was it because I could relate to Tim? Or perhaps because I secretly wished I could be one of those “lucky ones” he saves? Or because at one time, I was one of those lucky ones, just in a different way? Or was I crying because I understood the lonely feeling? Either way, I’d watch it again, and again. Maybe you will too. Try it. Then let me know how you feel about it. :-)