Like a Box of Chocolates, 1983

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“Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re gonna get,” Forrest Gump’s mother used to say. He repeated the dictum to anyone who would listen, as they came to sit beside him on the bench. Those words were his only philosophy, and everyone could take their own lesson from them. Forrest’s loving and protective mother knew pretty much everything there was to know, especially when it came to how we should see the world. For life was woven of beautiful unpredictability – one day you might be on a shrimp boat, the next in Vietnam, or at a ping-ping table, or leaning against Jenny’s headboard. Forrest was a simple-sounding man who spoke with unconscious poetry, and in his folksy drawl he told his companions on the bus bench about the extraordinary surprises he had had in life. There was greatness in his humility; it was true that nobody knew what the next day held, and that surprises were always in store for those willing to rummage through the box of chocolates, letting chance choose for them. Every chocolate was unique; each one destined to be savoured. Slow down, and savour the experience of life. Take a step back, and see yourself seizing every chance. Life is better when it’s shared with someone, and Forrest shared his many successes, joys, trials and tribulations with the strangers waiting on the bus. Some people became his close confidants for a few minutes while they shared a bench, while others he had known down all the years, like Jenny, the ebbing and flowing presence in his life.

Forrest Gump was a gentle, well-mannered man who cared deeply for his ailing mother. He had just left his ping-pong table, where he trained by playing against himself; he liked to practice by folding the table up into a right angle. Ping-pong was so simple. It was easy, as long as you never took your eye off the ball. Nothing else, nothing hidden, nothing insidious or deceitful or deep. It was a simple pursuit that cut to the quick of life; the present moment, the next chocolate in the box. When they told him that his mother was sick and that she was at rest in her country house, he dropped everything to run to her side. A mother was a precious gift, especially when she had explained to you that life was life a box of chocolates. Forrest Gump had learned this lesson well; his mother would not be around much longer. Everything came to an end, even life. Forrest Gump came back from afar. All he needed was the memory of Jenny crying “Run, Forrest, run!” for the miracle of his life to unfold. He had to move forward, doubting in nothing, and to live for as long as he could. He had shaken off the metal that held him upright, and Forrest ran faster than ever before to be at his mother’s side.

Alan Alfredo Geday