A few nights ago, during my usual catch up on work and relax time, I clicked through Netflix, trying to find something that to watch. I usually pick romantic comedies, but animated movies are always a good choice. I clicked on The Good Dinosaur, and didn’t even read the description: I love dinosaurs, and it’s an animated movie. What could go wrong?
I squealed at the adorableness in the first few minutes—the lil’ dinosaur family was adorable! They played and worked in the field together, and the little runt dinosaur was afraid of things, but his big brothers were (mostly) supportive and they all kept working together.
Then the little runt dinosaur got scared of something, and his dad decided to teach him a lesson. They started running alongside the river during a storm, and the dad dinosaur was trying to show him that he had to overcome his fears. The little dinosaur fell, and hurt his leg, and his dad realized he had been too hard on him. The dad apologized and they started to head home, but the storm had gotten worse, and there was a big wave of water coming. The dad threw his son up to safety, and was whisked away by the water.
He ran home, and the next scene showed the daddy dinosaur’s grave, and the rest of the dinosaur family working to get food ready for the winter. The momma dinosaur is working hard to make sure she provides for her family, and she realizes that she might not be able to do it on her own.
The rest of the movie was about the dinosaur going on a journey, and was kind of drawn out, but this beginning part really stuck with me. This little dinosaur feels responsible for his father’s death, and he feels like he owes something to his family. He learns how to face his fears, and be independent, and grow up.
This might sound weird, but I really identified with the little dinosaur. After my mom died, I felt like I had to keep my family together, I had to learn how to be independent, and I grew up far too quickly for any seven year old. And the journey that the dinosaur went on after his loss had it’s ups and downs, and there were scary moments, but he made it home. He made friends on his journey and learned who he could count on. But he faced his fears. He stopped being afraid. His dad helped guide him, and was still there with him, even if he wasn’t actually there.
The dinosaur’s journey was rough sometimes, but he made it through. And that is how a grief journey works—it’s one big roller coaster. Sometimes you feel like you can’t make it through, but you always somehow do.