About Time

I watched the end of the movie About Time earlier today.  It was not the first time I saw it, so I knew the basic story, but it effected me differently than before.

For those of you who haven't seen it, the premise of the movie involves a secret ability among the male members of an English family.  Not withstanding the fact that this secret leaves the women of the family without a clue about their husbands, the movie is much less about our male dominated society as it is about the father-son relationship, and living life to its fullest.

Today, I reflected much more on the relationship I had with my dad, than when I had seen the movie in the past.  I was fortunate enough to have spent time with my father at his work, helping him perform his job.  While those times occurred when I was quite young, age 10 or so into my early 20's, I still regard them as special experiences in light of how and where most boys interact with their fathers.

Still, spending time with your dad, and knowing about your dad are two very different things.  I know now that I did not know much about the man, his experiences as a child, his youthful dreams, his fears and joys through adulthood.  We seldom see our parents as people, the title mom and dad overpowering all other potential perceptions, and I know this is certainly true for me.  Do I know his favorite color?His favorite food?  His favorite movie or music?  Perhaps we might be able to answer some of those questions, but even then they represent such a surface knowledge of the men we called dad. 

In the movie, due to the fact that the male members can travel through time, (that is their secret ability) the son, who is also the narrator of the story, comes to know his father in a much more intimate way than most sons.  Perhaps it is partly because they share the secret, and that his dad is the only one he can go to for advice about this skill.  Perhaps it is merely because the son wants to know his dad more than most of us.

As the movie progresses, the rules of time travel are also revealed.  One such rule is that the son cannot travel back in time before his children are born.  This becomes important at the end when his wife wishes to have a third child, which means that the birth of this child, after his father's death, means he will no longer be able to "visit" his dad again.  That one last visit, just before his third child's birth, coupled with the visit he makes on the day of his dad's funeral, are both very poignant, and instructive.
They conjure up thoughts about what I might have said to my father had I known which conversation we had would have been our last.  And what times when it was just me and him that I would have wanted to relive, knowing we could converse in ways that transcended father-son.

It is during that last visit, that the father passes along a knowledge about time travel that he hopes will provide his son with the key to life.  He tells him to live everyday, first, as we all live it, one moment to the next, experiencing life but also filled with the anxieties of what today's acts might mean for the future, or the regrets of what was not done or said in all the yesterdays which have passed.  But then he advises his son to live the day again, less worried about what might happen, and more conscious of the moments.  So, we see the son go through his day, then we see him experience it again, but this time with more awareness of those he encounters, the places he works and lives in, his children, his wife.

And, as the movie ends, the son takes that advice a step further.  He consciously lives his life without the necessity of a replay.  His life is more rewarding because he appreciates the everyday joys and beauty.  While it is true that time travel enabled the son to understand his father as more than a dad, it may also be true that living one's life more fully also contributed to this deeper relationship. 

It is that hope, that we can all live our lives more fully, more joyfully, without the benefit of time travel, that we should wish for our loved ones, ourselves, all those who touch our lives both briefly and more profoundly, and the remainder of people whom we never meet yet whose transformed lives will all contribute to the improvement of our understanding of each other.