𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 🌷’s review published on Letterboxd:
That last scene is what finally broke me.
Nothing is quite as heartbreaking as watching somebody you love mentally and physically deteriorate. Watching someone who cared for you, comforted you, and loved you forget who or where they are, who anyone is around them, why they are where they are. I’ve gone through this with my grandmother, watching from a distance cause I couldn’t quite stand to get too close. I look into her eyes and I know she knows me, but I’m always scared she doesn’t quite know herself or her surroundings. But she knows me. She’ll wonder where my grandfather is sometimes, and even though he’s been gone for almost two years it hurts her just as much as it hurts us to hear.
Now, living in a home in a pandemic, I never get to see her. The occasional glance out the window at my dad visiting her as her one permitted visitor is all I have. I want so desperately to be able to hug her again. How much time do we even have left? It’s impossible to say. But I want to be there for her as much as I can. Because I love her, and it’s the least I can do after she gave me so much. She fuelled my love of movies after all, and look where that’s gotten me: studying film and arts and writing silly little reviews for people who will listen on the internet. I love her. I love my dad. I love my family. I would give anything to be in the same room with them all again.
Every moment we have with our loved ones is so unbelievably precious. We need to relish them, honour them, for their sakes and our own.