Matt and I went to go see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: pt 1 yesterday. It was strange for me to wait this long, as I've seen all the others opening week. Even for Half Blood Prince. We found a babysitter for Erin and Patrick was young enough to go with us. But this go around it was a little more difficult to find someone who would take both kids. So it was really nice to get out.
I really enjoyed the movie. I've read the book and I knew what to expect. And I cried in all the same places, even though I was expecting it. While reading the book, Dobby the House Elf's death took me by surprise, and I cried and cried.
Watching the movie, I started crying in anticipation. But it was much harder to watch than I thought. Not his death, actually, but as Harry was digging the grave. Ron and Hermione carried Dobby's body, wrapped in a white shroud, up the hill, and it looked like they were carrying a child. I'm not sure I would have thought that if I hadn't been through what I have, but I had to look away. I just couldn't do it. I cried for a totally different reason.