THE WIND PHONE
A Horrible Way To Die
And why do so many of us aspire to experience it?
After dark, she comes alive. Is this even alive? I wonder.
But, of course, it is.
Dying is the denouement, the final big scene, of her almost century-long show.
Still the critic in me can hardly tolerate my grandmother’s terrible terminus, so messy and indecisive, enraging because it’s not living up to the proud and sure bulk of her story.
But who am I to say what a dying soul needs?
Roger Ebert — as cancer ravaged his salivary and thyroid glands, stealing his ability to talk or eat — held he would have been infuriated if he missed it all because of an early or quick death.
“This is the third act, and it has been an experience. It makes for a better story.”
Ebert preached the gospel of art — books, and film — which provided salvation during dark days of his youth.
“The combined poetry and cumulative power of images and words flickering across a screen” allowed him “to breathe, to taste, and to feel” as his father died from lung cancer.
Nothing is enough, Ebert said, but this was adequate.
