My sister just moved to Alaska.
We've never lived more than 30 minutes from each other, so it basically feels like losing a limb. We knew there would eventually be a "last thing" we did together, and the obvious choice for sisters like us was to see a movie.
We pulled up to the sprawling theater and suddenly remembered that it contained in its bowels a tinier theater that served pub food and (more importantly for our emotional state) alcohol. Maybe there's something good playing in the tiny theater and we can also drink!
When the lady behind the desk said that Inside Out was playing a night before it officially released, we looked at each other, eyes wide, and awkwardly shouted, "YES, THAT ONE."
We settled in with a tub of popcorn the size of a small country, a sawdusty microwaved chocolate chip cookie, and a cocktail that 100% tasted like suntan lotion; it was glorious.
The movie started, and I knew we were in trouble. A little girl moves to a new place, and her emotions wade through the bog of change, disappointment, and wishing things could go back the way they were. Hannah and I laughed, cried, and dreaded leaving the theater, knowing that Alaska would be waiting in the parking lot to take her away.
I'd say to not see Inside Out before your sister moves to Alaska, that it's too emotional and suffocating and The Worst, but I'd be wrong. Nothing else could have been more perfect to experience together.
And as we sat in the parking lot, holding to each other tightly, crying like lunatics, hearing the summer downpour drown out any noise in the car (a super dramatic scene, y'all), I had never been more grateful for a movie.
Inside Out reminded me that memories and moments can contain more than one emotion. I can rejoice with my sister and her family as they live this new adventure 4000 miles away and simultaneously be positively heartbroken. Emotions don't need to always make sense; they exist together, swirling around your moment, freeing you to feel what you need to feel exactly when you need to feel it.
So if your sister is about to move to Alaska, go see Inside Out. Be prepared to suffer from dehydration after All the Crying, but it's a practically perfect film. Best Picture level, you guys. Plus it's cheaper than therapy and has popcorn. (My therapist sadly does not have a snack bar.)
I miss you, Hannah. Watch out for moose and earthquakes. Enjoy the mountains and the salmon. I wish you were with me in my kitchen, thoughtfully taste-testing cookies, but I'm glad that this newly discovered time with your family is much sweeter than Cumbercookies could ever be. I love you, sister. Your first visit back can't come soon enough.