"Time, so far from soothing the agonies of our past, may simply preserve and even intensify them."
is from a review of "The Tree of Life," which deals with the loss of a
child in terms of its cosmic significance. Not a bad attempt. Not a
good one either. There was another movie I saw not long ago on the same
topic. It said a mother's grief never fades away, but feels like a
brick you carry in your pocket, which you kind of become fond of and
touch, because you don't have your child, but you have that. It's all
been said before. What could I possibly add to it? Just that it's not a
sharp pain. Not at all. It's just always there, sometimes getting
heavier, sometimes receding. It's worse when I think of it as something
that was not accidental, but maybe inevitable, when it's not something
that was just inflicted on me, but something I had a part in. Even if
that was just bringing him into this world. Bringing him into
suffering. Not that I regret it. If I had a choice I would do it
over. That's it - I wish I had a do over. But you never do with life.
That's the unbearable lightness of being.
“We can never know what to
want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our
previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come.”
Again, nothing original to say.