Sunshine Cleaning

There are two main things I want to say about this film, but before that I will say it was a wonderful film and I really wish I saw it sooner. However, I will say, given what I'm about to say, I'm glad I saw it at the particular time that I did. I have noticed that a lot with the films I have been seeing lately. I've missed out on a lot of movies I wanted to see in theaters and saw them much later than intended but the effects they had on me I know have been completely different had I saw them when I originally wanted to. It is very interesting, but I'm absolutely grateful for it. I can never cease to describe the amazing effects that film has on my life and the power they hold. It is truly an art. A beautiful art.

This is where I alert you of spoilers, so if you haven't seen it and wish to, don't read beyond this. But there is also a lot of deeply personal things I will write about, not just the movie.

I will start with the somewhat lighthearted point I wanted to make about this film although there isn't anything lighthearted about death.  Death isn't necessarily my point, but the clean up of death, this film opened me up to more job/career choices revolving around death that I could possibly be a part of. I like that about the film. A film that isn't a crime drama, a thriller, or any of that sort, but a drama and some comedy about life and about death. Ordinary people who get into the business of crime scene clean up, the people we can probably all relate to in some way. And the pride and emotion they took away from doing the work, is realistic and beautiful on its own.

As for the other point, death of a mother. A suicide or "do it yourself kind of thing." This essentially made me cry pretty hard, in the end and after as I was trying to fall asleep. Yes, my mom is still alive. But I do not consider my mom to be alive anymore. The mom I know has been long gone. 7 years. Death by drugs and alcohol. Some that don't know the story may think that I'm heartless when it comes to my mom. But the fact is, you don't know the story. One thing that pisses me off most is people who tell me how I should feel about my mom when they don't know shit. Of all the people my mom has hurt, she knows she hurt me the most. And to be completely honest, I don't even know the extent of the pain she has caused me and still continues to cause me. Numbness has been my best friend since the divorce occurred. And I have changed a lot since then. My mom was the closest family member I had, my best friend, my teacher, my comfort, my confidence, my motivator, my confider, my source of unconditional love.

The worst part about this is that she is still alive.

I wish it...


There are moments, especially when the topic of the death of a mother arises that I feel my loss. I cried most at the end of the film when Amy Adams character talks into the CB radio to her dead mother, "I don't know if you're in heaven or what. But you're not here and that's too bad for you `cuz you've missed out. You've missed out on some really great stuff." She says it in a way that has the too-bad-for-you undertones. She was strong. My aunt and/or my grandma said something similar to this to me a month ago. That my mom is missing out on a lot. Just that sentence makes me cry, because it is so goddamn fucking true. I used to share everything with her... She wanted a daughter like me her whole life and now she fucked it up. What she decides to do instead is not worth it and apparently I'm not worth anything to her. She has gone delusional...she is gone.




I am a lot like my mom. My compassion, curiosity, understanding, and love for others is all from her. All from her. While I was crying to this film last night in bed with my slumbering boyfriend, I realized also that I hardly let this pain out. Out from under the numbness. I don't really do it on purpose, it's just the way I am and I realized my mom has more to do with it than I thought. I have talked about how I keep my emotions to myself and have the utmost care and concern for the comfort of those around me. Well I realized that I'm still doing this, emotions I feel for my mom, are being bottled up. In a way I am fine with this, in a way I am aware it is unhealthy. Why do I feel fine with this? I think it's a long story, the relationship of my mother and I...it is my whole life and it's not entirely a story I feel like telling at any instantaneous moment. And maybe I just want to keep the pain inside because I don't think anyone will quite understand. Maybe I don't want to hear others critique this relationship and tell me what to do. I honestly hate being told what to do. I really only want to be listened to, to be made aware of. Nothing more. I think that is a lot why I keep major emotional events and histories to myself...because I hate being told what to do about it. And a lot of the times I don't want others to share their own stories. I will hear your story any other day, but If I'm actually opening up, I want it to be all about me just for those moments. I don't mean that in an egotistical sense, because I am nothing like that. Really, I just want to be listened to. Sometimes I feel when others tell me their stories, that is all they think about while I'm telling them mine, that they aren't really fully listening to my story. Wow...this is complex...and flowing right out of me. At the heart of it all, that would make a lot of sense why I enjoy having this blog. It is very much one-way traffic. I can let it all out without the disruptions from others...no wonder I feel so much better when I write. It is all me, unpolluted. My mom was very much the type of person that put absolutely everyone before herself...unfortunately I am exactly the same way which is the root of why I don't show my emotion in hopes to not disrupt the comfort of others, the well being of others. It is unhealthy. And I know this is a lot of why my mom broke down.....for I could follow that path...


You are strong.
You are powerful.
You can do anything.