Eternity
There's that bittersweet outcome of waiting for a century for the love of your life, and later then, letting her go to let her truly live a life where happiness is not lost.
I have been putting this film on hold for a while, thinking it’d be one of those cheesy modern rom-com films, but to my surprise, I was wrong. A few minutes in and I could already feel my heart racing by how well fabricated this whole plotline is. How the afterlife was being portrayed as this artificial space of endless chaos–like an airport scenario over the holidays. It’s packed, noisy, filled with curiosities and questionnaires such as, “Is God even real?,” “Is this heaven, or hell?”
You’d think when you die, you’d find the answers, but the afterlife seems to give you more choices to feel pressure from, and be more confused in a lifeless state than you were living.
“What is a soul?” a question that the afterlife coordinator (AC), Anna asked Larry. He then confidently answered with our soul being “a perfect version of yourself, ” but Anna immediately contradicts him by saying, “It’s just you.” I feel that it makes sense in a way as a soul is what makes us human on the surface. I guess, in the midst of all chaos of the afterlife, you get to make a choice. One that your soul won't regret for eternity. Because as AC Ryan said, “eternity is a long time to have regrets.” Once you make that decision, there, you'll find your own version of a paradise—you'll have the peace that you have been seeking for.
As I was watching, I can't help but see myself both in Luke and Larry—the grace in waiting and the ache of letting go. They have applied each in their own way. Luke, who has waited 67 years in the afterlife for Joan, and later then made a decision to let go of her because she admitted that she wasn't happy with him in that eternity. With Larry, who stuck by Joan's side in the real world despite the grief she's had from her late first husband, Luke. He stayed and did his best to make her happy. He loved her for 65 years, gave her a family, grandkids, and a life she never had with Luke.
He said, “Don't worry, I'll be in the sun. Knowing you're happy makes me happy,” as he let the love of his life go. In the afterlife, he made a choice to let her go because he understood that Joan's happiest moment was with Luke.
And that's the funny thing about love, isn't it? You'll never know if waiting will be worth it, or if letting go will be the right answer. You just do. You love someone, and you'll do anything for that person. When push comes to shove, you learn from it and you grow together. If you're willing to give up that easily without the act of understanding, then love is lost.
One of the most memorable lines for me is when Joan confronted Luke in their eternity:
“Love isn't just one happy moment. Right? It's a million. and it's bickering in the car, and supporting someone when they need it, and it's growing together, and looking after each other.” –Joan
That, maybe, might be the flaw of a young love. It's too perfect. It's so perfect that it's filled with happiness, with the same routine, and the same naivety. It's so perfect that it has become stagnant. There's no growth happening between the two of you.
I think the beauty of love is that you get to wait, to admire, to appreciate, and to love that person—the good, the bad, and the ugly. For you to spend an eternity, you must love every flaw. Understand that “perfect” can be filled with quiet, chaos, joy and growth within two people. You just have to hold on to what you believe is right, and just see which eternity would life take you.