It's great!
Of course like with everything Sarah and I watch these days, one of the characters has stage 4, pancreatic cancer and is expected to die soon.
Buddy Green, Richard Dreyfuss' character, attempts a comeback as a comedian 50 years after quitting the business the night before he's to appear on the Ed Sullivan show.
He's the one with cancer so time's of the essence to make the return to the big time.
I won't spoil the ending in case you too have exhausted every episode of everything on Netflix and need an alternative.
Watching the movie, Sarah and I find ourselves sanctimoniously smirking or laughing at societal expectations of living with what you're dealt, especially repeated bad hands, to play.
"Did you like it?" she asks from underneath the blanket on the other end of the sofa.
"I did. You?"
"Yeah" her voice trails because she's texting Laurel, our 16 year old, who's volunteered to oversee the birth of kittens for friends and will Facetime each delivery.
Cassidy, the 14 year old, is packing to help Laurel by spending the night birthing cats together.
Che's asleep.
Sarah's in no hurry to leave the sofa.
We're in the time between tests.
The calendar of cancer is measured in tests, ever present dark clouds, and we live from one Doctor's appointment to the next.
I'm healing nicely from the last surgery though continue to struggle with a myriad of after effects.
Sarah's refocused the part of her brain that focuses on the possibility of me dying to concentrate on other things like the future.
Planning for the future's a bitch when cancer's involved!
You have to factor in every possible contingency beginning with me dying and move on from there.
It's a good thing we're both forward thinkers.
But Sarah and I are increasingly finding ourselves laughing more.
It's not this great hearty, belting sort of laughing but rather the grim, resolved kind, but laughing we increasingly are indeed!
Half the time it's a secret we share hearing or seeing something and immediately catching one other's eye to privately share the glee we've discovered.
The rest of our laughter is subdued audible expressions of joy, with Laurel and I being the most robust while Sarah, Cass and Maddie keep theirs on the sly.
There's no question we delight in each other at least once almost every single day.
For now anyway, it's more than our noses above the water as we're all taking inventory of how far we've come, what condition we're in now and dreaming about the rest of our lives.
It's just a great time!
There's another week before the next round of tests are scheduled and I want us all to have a good time until then, whatever that means!
I do believe our laughter's representing seeds of our future and, if we keep growing the one then the horizon brightens in the other.
"Is Mike watching?" Laurel yells through the phone.
"I am now," I answer having no interest in Tim and Jess's cats, leaning my forehead against the crown of Sarah's head, we watch Laurel excitedly narrate the birth of kittens.
Collapsing in bed later, we tiredly laugh at the absurdity before falling asleep dreaming again of tomorrow.
