Forget about forgiving and just accept

grosse-pointe-blank-reelgood

Some people say forgive and forget. Nah, I don’t know. I say forget about forgiving and just accept. And… get the hell out of town.” ~ Debi

The clock of life ticks and tocks, time ever-persistent, always moving along, ignoring the moments and meanings of anything besides forward motion. I do not believe in fearing time, or age, nor have I ever minded growing older. On the contrary, I have welcomed, open armed and open lipped kissed, the wisdom and wonder that go hand-in-hand as the years go by.

With the passing of time, though, comes the contradicting arrival of both clarity and confusion. I hold them both in the palm of each hand, turning each over, taking them in, their scent, their sight, the feeling of my face held close, and I try to put them in defining categories of memory, magic, pain, pleasure, loss, luck, and regret. The last one, she is quite the beast to fold up and put away. I try to ignore her, stand up straight, run my fingers through the tangles of my hair, chin up, eyes open, claiming the “I don’t have any regrets” line, but its a lie.

We all have regrets.

We all have things we would like to take back, do over, or at least ask forgiveness for.

When this movie came out it was the same year as my own 10 year reunion, an event I did not attend. Funny, looking back I don’t even know why I chose not to go, except that maybe those years did not hold the real punch of significance. No, it was those 10 years from graduation to the ring of that reunion that held the big significance. If I could go back to some surreal kind of reunion to my twenties, well maybe that would be a harder one to say no to.

I digress. The whole point to this rambling reaction to just watching this film is that maybe Debi has it right. Sometimes we need to take our regrets, along with the things that we wish to seek forgiveness for, and those things that we need to forgive in others, and just accept them – and, yeah, get the hell out of town (I’m trying, I really am).

Grosse Pointe Blank (1997)