In watching the movie An Unfinished Life for the fourth time I was moved, yet again, with the beauty of the film, the story, the layers, the final words.
Two older men, Einar and Mitch, long-time friends, wounded by life, restored by truth, sitting on the porch of Mitch's cabin sharing words in muted, pensive tones:
Einar: You think the dead really care about our lives?
Mitch: Yeah, I think they do. I think they forgive us our sins. I even think it's easy for them.
Einar: Griff [young granddaughter] said you had a dream about flying.
Mitch: Yeah. I got so high, Einar, I could see where the blue turns to black. From up there, you could see all there is. And it looked like there was a reason for everything.