If, on your deathbed, you want to watch a lighthearted movie, don’t let me pick the film. On a last visit with my mother before she died, I chose Toy Story 3, forgetting the painful premise: Andy, leaving home for college, boxing up his childhood toy friends. This line: “We’re all just trash waiting to be thrown away.” And this line: “If your kid loves you so much, why is he leaving?” That final scene! Andy’s mother. His emptied room. Her gasp. “It’s just. I wish I could always be with you.”
