What Luca Shows Us About Love and Acceptance

Ordinarily, my posts look through a Disney-colored lens at my experiences as a caregiver and through grief. When I watched Luca on Disney+, it touched my heart in a different but still relevant way, and I felt compelled to write about it. Luca is the story of a young sea monster who is intrigued by the human world and like most pre-teens, he is starting to challenge his parents’ views and attempts to shelter him. Luca’s parents fear the human world and are willing to send him to the depths of the sea to protect him. To rebel, he befriends and runs away with another young sea monster, Alberto, and Luca seems to admire his independence and confidence. What Luca does not know is that Alberto is actually a lonely sea monster who has been raising himself because his father abandoned him.

Luca and Alberto learn that when they are out of the water and dry, they appear to be human. Despite his parents’ warnings, Luca joins Alberto to explore a nearby village on the Italian Riviera, where they conceal their identities, afraid to be discovered because it is a village of active sea monster hunters and villagers who are terrified of sea monsters. In fact, one of the sea monster hunters is the father of Giulia, a girl who also struggles with her identity, who becomes their friend without knowing that they are sea monsters.

Luca’s parents are determined to find him and bring him home. They are as afraid of humans as the humans are of sea monsters. However, their love for Luca leads them to shed their scales and don human forms as they search for him in the village.

After a series of adventures and mishaps, Alberto gets drenched and is revealed to be a sea monster. Rather than defend his friend and show his own sea monster self, Luca pretends to be shocked and Alberto, feeling rejected and hurt, returns alone to the water. Shortly after that, Giulia discovers Luca’s identity. She grapples with the realization that Luca and Alberto are not what she has grown up to believe are sea monsters.

In a revealing conversation, the children find what unites them:
Giulia: You know, we underdogs have to look out for each other, right?
Alberto: What’s, “under the dog’s”?
Giulia: Under-dogs. You know, kids who are different. Dressed weird, or a little sweatier than average.

Without wanting to give away the ending of the film, the film touched me in the way it portrays people who are different. I read in various Disney social media groups that there were people who appreciated the film because they believed it portrayed a gay relationship between the two boys. Of course, there were those who agreed and those who were offended. There were those who found it ridiculous to look for things in a film. For me, what is most important and valuable is that someone watching Luca related to it and felt embraced, validated and understood, that’s all that really matters. The messages I have found in Disney films, whether or not anyone else saw them, are my pixie dust.

I believe that the film showed an overall acceptance of people whom you may see as different. There are people with physical disabilities whose vibrant personalities and intelligence are overlooked. I have written countless times about how Ben was judged because of the speech impairment that resulted as ALS affected his muscles. He was, at times, harshly judged as lazy for being in a scooter at Walt Disney World because his physical weakness was not apparent. There are people with illnesses that are chronic and are not apparent. They are judged for behaviors simply because they are not understood. All these individuals might lack the scales of a sea monster, but they should be seen beyond superficial physical observations. The way I saw Luca, their beautiful and colorful scales made them unique and delightful in their own way. It was the perceptions of others that were ugly and terrifying. Click To Tweet

Luca’s parents have to let him be who he is. That is not easy for any parent or caregiver. Luca’s grandmother points out that, “Some people, they’ll never accept him. But some will and he seems to find the good ones.” We can only hope that there will be more and more good ones as films like Luca will help to open the eyes and hearts.

Luca is a validating film of acceptance and personal growth. It confirmed for me how powerful films can be in helping us to sort through experiences and broaden our lives. It is also delightful to watch, with its added bonus of Italian language and songs.

40 Years Later, Widow Tweed (“The Fox and the Hound”) Still Gets to the Heart of Grief

This time of year is always one filled with conflicting emotions. I am beyond elated and relieved that a school year has ended, but there are so many sad memories. Six years after losing Ben, I still find that I rehash events of those days. July 6 is the date I refer to as the day that everything changed- this is the day that Ben went into the hospital. From July 6 until his passing at the end of August, I rarely left Ben’s side as he dealt with a feeding tube, a tracheostomy, pneumonia, infections, a lot of family drama, having to decide how he wanted to live and die with ALS.  July 8th was my mom’s birthday. It was never a good or easy day, but spending that day with Ben in the hospital, not knowing what was going to happen to him, made it that much more stressful and compounded the emotion of this day.

Ordinarily, I don’t make plans for milestone dates. I do not punish myself or insist on any kind of ritual of sadness. There have been years that I could barely get out of bed and surrounded myself with Ben’s favorite Disney movies and The Little Mermaid, a film my mom and I had a great time watching together. Sometimes, I have just wanted to stroll through Central Park, feeding the turtles and the squirrels. I accept that I never know how I am going to feel, and I allow myself to follow my mood. I do not generally argue with people who tell me what I “should” do, but I also don’t listen to them.

This year, I made plans to visit my forever friend, Dorie, and her husband Damian, during the time that spanned both dates. When we chose those dates, I did think about the milestones, but I did not feel conflicted about going away. I took Amtrak on July 6, which reminded me of the many long weekends Ben and I took on the train. Ben loved the train- even a seven-hour ride to Vermont! I miss those rides with him and the romantic getaways. During my ride to Dorie’s, I did, however, find myself smiling rather than crying at the memories. Of course, we all find ways to rationalize things, but I believe that Ben would likely be pleased that I was doing something that would remind me of him and of us.

The milestones were definitely on my mind on those dates, but I was okay. I am fortunate and grateful to have wonderful friends who are patient with my sharing of memories but who help me live in and enjoy the present while I keep Ben and my mom in my heart.

I do have to admit that I was torn about buying tickets to see Bruce Springsteen on Broadway on the anniversary of the date of Ben’s leaving the world. I had clicked on every single date and that was the only available date (at a barely reasonable price). It took a while to confirm the sale as I wondered if I could enjoy a concert, or anything else, on that date. I decided that I won’t know if I don’t just go, and hopefully, since Ben loved music so much, I will especially enjoy it through his eyes and with him in my heart. I generally believe in signs, so I would like to think that my finding a ticket on that date was a sign from Ben that it is okay, and I should go. Still, I am conflicted and hoping that this event works out as well and as enlightening as my visit to see Dorie.

The Fox and the Hound celebrated its 40th anniversary last weekend, on July 10. I have been thinking a lot about the quote from the heartbreaking scene when Widow Tweed tells Tod that “Goodbye may seem forever, farewell is like the end, but in my heart is a memory and there you’ll always be.”  This year will mark six years since Ben left the world, and I realized last week while I was away that I am getting better at balancing the memories and the love with being in the here and now and, looking forward. There is a tinge of discomfort at smiling and carrying on with life, but not a sense of guilt or emotional paralysis that leaves me on the sofa. In a way, has become a comfort that as I keep going, there are always memories that keep my loved ones close. They are not always good memories, as in Ben’s going into the hospital, but I will say that more of the love stands out than the bad times or crises.

I have occasionally been told that writing my blog posts keeps me in the past and in grief. I disagree. As I revisit previous posts and look back at how I coped with the milestones over the years, I see that there has been a shift in my thinking and in my embracing of life. I see that I have made strides and have come through my experiences knowing that although my confidence is not strong, Christopher Robin was absolutely right that “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.”

I hope that this post serves as some comfort and encouragement to anyone experiencing grief. Our timeframes and strategies for coping may vary, and we will probably always navigate unexpected ups and downs, but the memories and love always remain in our hearts.

Dorie and I in Skaneateles, NY