I remember watching this episode of Ally McBeal several years ago now — the episode the short clip below is from. You don’t really need a context, thank God, because I don’t remember enough of the episode to give you one.
The clip simply shows Ally sitting at her little upright piano in the final moments of the episode and plucking out the tune to Dulcinea from “Man of La Mancha” — a song her dad used to sing to her. His voice joins in and sings with her.
But when I saw it, it had a completely different context to me. The song of Dulcinea could just as easily be the song of the childless woman. That’s what I heard when I saw this episode. These are exactly the words you sing to the children you don’t have. The children you swear you know, the children you know you love, but still, the children who are not here. And the visual at the end of this clip — well, that’s the life of the childless woman, during the worst of it, when you want to die.
I put this clip up not for my sake, no, but for anyone you might know going through this right now. Mourning what doesn’t exist. Going crazy from it. Feeling haunted. Wondering if they’ll ever come out the other side. Pray for them, okay? Or just say a prayer in general for the childless, for the single who long for children, too.
Be forewarned: I don’t make it through this clip dry-eyed — ever — and you might not either.
There are so many people walking around mourning so much that people just don’t see, aren’t there?
(partial lyrics below)
I have dreamed thee too long,
Never seen thee or touched thee.
But known thee with all of my heart.
Half a prayer, half a song,
Thou hast always been with me,
Though we have been always apart.
Dulcinea… Dulcinea…
I have sought thee, sung thee,
Dreamed thee, Dulcinea!
And thy name is like a prayer
An angel whispers… Dulcinea… Dulcinea ….
Dulcinea …. Dulcinea ….
Is there a line in the lyrics that goes:
Dulcinea, I see heaven when I see thee, Dulcinea!
Or have I just been singing the wrong lyrics for over 30 years…
Oh, and in my humble opinion, “Man of La Mancha” is perhaps the most underrated of the “great musicals”
That is heartbreaking.
I think it’s that final overhead shot that really did me in.
That’s what those nights really feel like.
JFH — I only posted the lyrics sung in this clip, but yes, you’re right.
sheila — I know. That last shot. Totally nails that feeling, doesn’t it?
She looks so small, and the perspective is so disorienting. It’s that weird outside-eye – like you’re looking down at yourself from a distance …
it’s awful. that shot really nails it.
A closer shot would not have nailed that feeling. She’s so tiny and vulnerable — like how she must look to God. You just want to hold her forever.
Mourning what doesn’t exist.
I suppose people either “get” that or they don’t. If you have compassion, or empathy, you at least can try to listen, and understand. But it’s hard to “explain” to someone who either hasn’t experienced it – or HAS experienced it but not to that final awful degree – of: “this long-held dream will NOT come true. It’s over. Move on. Find something else to take up your brain space. Grieve.”
The walking wounded.
My heart aches for both of you…
Fifteen years ago, my mother’s stomach cancer cancer which was in remission for 18 months (after surgery to remove her entire stomach, radiation treatment and chemo) came back with a vengeance. The oncologist after giving her only 6-12 months the first time, gave her 3 months this time. We scheduled a last beach vacation for my parents 35 anniversary knowing that she wouldn’t make it more than a month past that; yet she died the night before we were to go.
At the funeral director’s office that next week, he was asking for information to be put in obituaries. After questioning us for proper spellings of the immediate family’s names, he asked about grandchildren and my older sister completely lost it and had to leave.
A little bit of background: None of my Mom’s three children had children. My little brother was still in college, my sister had had 3 miscarriages, and my wife and I were “only” 5 years into infertility treatment. On the bright side, my sister had been pregnant for 4 months, the longest she had gone in any pregnancy and things were looking good.
That night, after the trip to the funeral home, my sister explained. Two weeks prior, my sister had a face to face conversation with my mother, discussing the good news about the pregnancy (fortunately she only lived 2 hours from my parents). My mother was both excited and sad. Her statement was, “You know, I would have made a GREAT grandmother!”. According to my sister it was a forlorn, wistful statement as she had faith in God she would have grandchildren, but also knew that she would never she these precious children.
My mother was a woman of incredible faith in God. She was not afraid of dying, not selfish in her own needs, but I think in this case, she just wanted to enjoy her grandchildren the way, she saw her friends and even HER mother (who lived with my parents at the time), had with her grandchildren growing up.
The mourning for the loss of possibility, for things that never were can be such an enormous lonliness.
Tracey, I seem to remember that at some point in the series Ally was struggling with not having children because of the loss of the relationship she thought would lead her to someday build that life. So I have this recollection of seeing that type of mourning explored on that show.
Funny how a song can mean so many things to different people. It strikes different and painful chords within me as well. A beautifully done scene.
(…and thank you to JFH for the willingness to share. That just broke my heart.)
I have no words.