Why Disney’s Coco left me sobbing in the cinema…

Today was a lovely yet emotional day. The penultimate day of half term and a days annual leave for me, I headed to the cinema with my eldest daughter – our first one on one date since before she started school. We walked, hand in hand from the car park, her skipping along beside me, excited about the shiny ‘cimena’ floor and the big bag of popcorn that she could be fairly confident I was going to treat her to.

We chatted on the way – idol chit chat about nothing of any importance, but a lovely moment between mother and daughter – the tiny, everyday moments that make family so, so precious.

We decided to watch Coco and I didn’t really know what to expect. A little different to the princess films like Frozen 2 that Erin will happily watch on repeat, this latest Disney classic has a male lead – a young Mexican boy named Miguel, who is banned from playing music due to his great great grandfather abandoning his family to pursue his musical career.

I’d shown Erin the trailer beforehand and she seemed keen, laughing rather than recoiling at the skeletons so I figured we’d be on to a winner. I didn’t expect to enjoy it. To be totally honest I’d joked with friends about having a snooze when the lights went down, confident that Erin would be eyes wide and entranced, her main focus on the magnetic pull of popcorn to her mouth.

I certainly didn’t expect to cry. But cry, I did. For the first time since Up which took me totally off guard in the first twenty minutes, Coco left me sobbing in the cinema, shedding a tear at the prospect of being forgotten, forgetting my loved ones or our memories fading as each day passes by.

They’ll be no spoilers here, but as Coco features a land of the dead, it’s fair to predict that death is covered pretty openly in the script.

As someone who’s lost my Mum, the prospect of forgetting terrifies me and is the reason why I already sleep with a photo of my her by my bed. I never want to forget that smile, that infectious humour or the glint in her eye.

I look at her face every night before I close my eyes and remember her. I regularly flick through photo albums and my mind transports me back to that moment; remembering how I felt, what we wore, and the things that she had said. I talk about her with my girls often, telling them all about the Nan they would have loved to know and ensuring that her presence lives on; that she will never be forgotten.

If only the concept of ‘Dia de los Muertos’ could be true, so we really could spend one day together every year.

Whilst I am sure some of the deeper messages in Coco will go over many younger children’s heads, I am confident there are many, like me, with whom the film will resonate.

There’s a reason I take a million photos, why I strive to capture the everyday moments, why my partner rolls his eyes when I pull out my camera to make a record of yet another a seemingly unsubstantial moment.

These moments become memories.

One day, I will have to leave my loved ones behind, and I never want those recollections to fade.

Whilst the big events are important, it’s the little things, these insignificant everyday Thursdays that I want my daughters to remember.

To know that they were loved, that they had a Mum who felt utterly blessed to hold their hand in hers every single day and who cherished every cuddle, every anecodote and every giggle.

Coco is another beautifully scripted, and deeply touching film from Disney but it most definitely lingers. I would suggest at the very least wearing waterproof mascara.

In honour of the words from Hector’s most popular score; Remember Me – Mum, I always will. Xxx