The Brick in My Pocket
(Everybody has one. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.) Some time ago, while watching the movie Rabbit Hole , I was struck by a very poignant scene. It takes place between Becca (played by Nicole Kidman) and her mother, Nat (played by Dianne Wiest), as they each navigate the grief of losing a child—Becca recently, and Nat many years earlier. The exchange between the daughter (Becca) and mother (Nat) goes like this: Becca : Does it ever go away? Nat : No, I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't—has gone on for eleven years. But it changes, though. Becca : How? Nat : I don't know... the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and... carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you... you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and—there it is. Nat : ... So, you carry it around. And uh... it doesn't go away. Which is... Becca : Which is what? Nat : Fine, actua...