On Love and Perseverance
Stanely Tucci is a national treasure, and I won’t hear otherwise. The Devil Wears Prada was probably the first time he came on my radar, but his role in Easy A sealed the deal for me. Caesar Flickerman in The Hunger Games? The icing on top.
Stan (we’re on a first name basis, obviously) stars in Supernova alongside Colin Firth, and together they tore my heart out, ripped it up, put it back together, tore it apart some more, but then mostly mended it and gave it back to me. That’s pretty much exactly how I like my books and films because it helps me keep in touch with my own humanity. It’s a harrowing process, but one I think is really important. “Do I still have feelings? Am I still a person?” I’ll muse. And then a piece of media will knock me on my ass. “So I guess that’s a yes.”
The premise of this film is that Stan and Colin are lovers, one of whom is living with early onset dementia. And that’s pretty much it; that’s the plot. You can imagine from that description why it sort of wrecked me, but I swear that it’s actually beautiful. It’s wonderful to look at, certainly—pastoral English countrysides should be the setting of every film going forward. But the relationship that these two men portray was what made my heart burst at the seams, less in the love is love kind of way, but more in the I-will-do-this-hard-thing-because-of-love way. Obviously living with dementia is awful, that goes without saying. But I was incredibly touched by what the non-dementia partner had to do, and how he knew exactly what he wanted to be able to say that he had done for his husband when things had run their course.
It reminded me so much of what I saw my dad doing when he was taking care of my mom full time at the end of her life. He didn’t complain about what was certainly the most unjust thing that could have happened to him. Instead, he knew what his love for his wife meant, and he plowed ahead.
I’ve had this weird experience several times when I’ve told someone new about my mom’s passing, and they’ll say something like, “I can’t imagine how you got through that.” It’s sort of this weird sympathy/compliment thing. They acknowledge the hardship, and sort of give me a little pat on the back for still standing after all of it. But at the time, my main thought was “let’s get through it.” What else is there to really think about when you’re faced with something like losing a mom to cancer or your partner’s memory fading away?
It’s just been a while since I thought about how soul-stretching that whole “getting through it” period of my life was, and that it was almost a process of getting wrung out everyday. It was love that kept me going, love for my mother and for the other people in my life. Stan and Colin brought into sharp relief love's potency and power, and the times I've used it to keep afloat.
The other time I felt so aware of humanity's capacity to fight through and let love compel us to action was when I visited the 9/11 museum in New York City. It’s such an interesting experience because when you go on vacation you try to do things that are fun. I wouldn’t necessarily say the experience was “fun,” but it was as moving and galvanizing as it was sobering and heart-rending. I am so grateful we visited because it reminded me that we can pick ourselves back up during/after hardship. I don’t want to relive the experience of the day of the attacks, but I don’t want to soon forget what I saw everyday Americans do to get through something horrifying.
All of this is to say that the human spirit is capable of so much, especially so much love. And that love can power us through, can forge meaning in trials, can make all of this crazy stuff worth it, including getting through those “I can’t even imagine” moments.
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| I just want to be friends with them in real life. |
The premise of this film is that Stan and Colin are lovers, one of whom is living with early onset dementia. And that’s pretty much it; that’s the plot. You can imagine from that description why it sort of wrecked me, but I swear that it’s actually beautiful. It’s wonderful to look at, certainly—pastoral English countrysides should be the setting of every film going forward. But the relationship that these two men portray was what made my heart burst at the seams, less in the love is love kind of way, but more in the I-will-do-this-hard-thing-because-of-love way. Obviously living with dementia is awful, that goes without saying. But I was incredibly touched by what the non-dementia partner had to do, and how he knew exactly what he wanted to be able to say that he had done for his husband when things had run their course.
It reminded me so much of what I saw my dad doing when he was taking care of my mom full time at the end of her life. He didn’t complain about what was certainly the most unjust thing that could have happened to him. Instead, he knew what his love for his wife meant, and he plowed ahead.
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| They're who have most shown by example what love and perseverance are. |
I’ve had this weird experience several times when I’ve told someone new about my mom’s passing, and they’ll say something like, “I can’t imagine how you got through that.” It’s sort of this weird sympathy/compliment thing. They acknowledge the hardship, and sort of give me a little pat on the back for still standing after all of it. But at the time, my main thought was “let’s get through it.” What else is there to really think about when you’re faced with something like losing a mom to cancer or your partner’s memory fading away?
It’s just been a while since I thought about how soul-stretching that whole “getting through it” period of my life was, and that it was almost a process of getting wrung out everyday. It was love that kept me going, love for my mother and for the other people in my life. Stan and Colin brought into sharp relief love's potency and power, and the times I've used it to keep afloat.
The other time I felt so aware of humanity's capacity to fight through and let love compel us to action was when I visited the 9/11 museum in New York City. It’s such an interesting experience because when you go on vacation you try to do things that are fun. I wouldn’t necessarily say the experience was “fun,” but it was as moving and galvanizing as it was sobering and heart-rending. I am so grateful we visited because it reminded me that we can pick ourselves back up during/after hardship. I don’t want to relive the experience of the day of the attacks, but I don’t want to soon forget what I saw everyday Americans do to get through something horrifying.
All of this is to say that the human spirit is capable of so much, especially so much love. And that love can power us through, can forge meaning in trials, can make all of this crazy stuff worth it, including getting through those “I can’t even imagine” moments.
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| The museum is truly a stunning experience, and it's my favorite memory from that trip. |
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