Maurice Jarre died in the last couple of weeks. Another pillar of my life crumbles. Unbeknown to most, including my beloved husband, Carl, Maurice wrote "our song," the beautiful "Lara's Theme" from Dr. Zhivago. Right at the beginning of our marriage, Carl and I went to see that movie and though Carl actually slept through it, I decided to let that be "Our Theme" as well, even though Carl seemed understandably confused and bewildered about the whole idea. But he did consent. No real enthusiasm there, though.
My excitement about the song was renewed when my son, Brad, married the beautiful Julia (above) who was born in Kiev, Ukraine. I thought Dr. Zhivago would be right up her alley since she kind of gravitates towards soapy love story movies and it was Russian. She informed me, however, she'd seen it and thought it was "stupid" and hardly a depiction of the U.S.S.R. she'd known. My hopes again blasted.
Let it be noted I mourn Maurice Jarre's passing even though it appears I stand alone in this.