The movie "Jackie" chronicles said First Lady in the worst moments of her life. I saw this movie months ago when it first was released. Gracie and I watched it together. She thought it was slow. I agreed, but I was moved by it in ways I couldn't describe at the time.
I've been in a bit of a mood of late, and have rewatched the movie via the miracle of Amazon. It is this scene that took me off my feet upon first viewing. And it has done the same this time around.
No one knows how this wife and mother really reacted after her husband was assassinated next to her. But Natalie Portman certainly does a masterful job of conveying what I believe to have been that reality.
When I was I child, I cried too much in private. I'm certain it wasn't healthy or at all okay. But in my world, if I didn't share my trouble, somehow, it was all mine. I was in charge of it. And it was thus easier to bear. At least that's how I make sense of it decades later.
I don't pretend to be an artist or a arbiter thereof, but when I saw this scene, something guttural struck within me. I'm not Natalie Portman. I'm not the slain president's grieving widow. But hurt is universal. Strangely enough, there is comfort there. At least there is for me.
