“The present is all you have. Treasure it. Cherish every moment.”
- Eric Dane
Last night I watched a program called Famous Last Words “a netflix series which features intimate, private interviews with cultural icons that are only published after their deaths.” The subjects of the series speak with the creator, Brad Falchuk (the quiet co-creator behind many series, perhaps more famously known as Gwenyth Paltrow's husband.) It's a series of personal questions and answers that prompt thoughtful contemplation and a deliberate message.
As I dove deeper down the rabbit hole, I found a Danish Television series called Det Sidste Ord, translated as "to have the last word, ” the inspiration for the adapted American version.
The Netflix series, which Brad hosts, is new, so there are only three episodes currently being broadcast. The first with conservationist Jane Goodall, the second with activist Gloria Steinem, the third with the actor, Eric Dane. Each different and unique to their individual life experience, yet as expected, a few universal threads. I only wished the interviews lasted longer. There was so much more I wanted to learn, to glean. At the end of each interview, Brad leaves them alone in the room to deliver a message to the unmanned camera. In Eric's case, it was a moving tribute directed very deliberately and speifically to his children. After they have said what they wanted to say, there is a long pause of stillness, of silence. They sit in their chairs, alone, for what is probably only a few seconds but feels like a lifetime of looking back in these moving last frames. It feels a bit haunting.
As Gloria Steinem looked into the camera, she urged us in her message, “Please tell your own story. This is the most important thing we can do for each other — to know each other through stories.”
Before my father passed away last year, I often said I was going to sit down and ask he and my mom questions, to record their voices, recollections and memories. Partly to learn more history about who they are as a human being, not just as a parent. Partly to learn more about myself and my ancestors. Partly to have something I could listen back to when I wanted to hear their voices, their hard-earned wisdom. I regret to say, that never happened. My mom just turned ninety a few months ago. Despite a few physical setbacks discovered during a prolonged illness in the ICU last month, she is still mentally razor sharp and always giving me mic-drop snippets of wisdom. This is my reminder to hit the record button.
These kind conversations, especially with people we know are dying, or with death nearing due to age, are the bittersweet moments that remove us from the mundanity of what we think is important, towards what truly matters. It doesn't have to be a parent. It can be a friend, or mentor, even a stranger.
This is the point of both series. To remind us to take the time while loved ones are still alive to have these kinds of conversations. To understand who they are, from their point of view. To hear about the lessons learned, the history that has informed who they are and what they have become. And, as they eventually will, like all of us, leave this world, what hard-earned or given wisdom can they pass down to those of us who may (or may not) have many more years on this earth. If and when you watch the Netflix series, I hope it inspires or enlightens you in some way, as it did me. I plan to watch it again, as I am sure there is some wisdom I missed, something that I might hear differently, again.
What are the lessons learned? To hold those we love a little more often, more dearly. To take time out of our busyness to understand that today is the only day we are given, that tomorrow is not guaranteed. That life, no matter how much time we have, passes quicker than we can imagine. Let us treasure, with thoughtfulness, our relationships, the experiences, the adventures. The 25th anniversary of 9/11 was another sober reminder that our lives can be taken in a moments notice. These are things we all know. This is just another reminder of what we so easily forget, and sometimes regret.
"Once you bring death into the room—that could be your dinner table, that could be the room where we do the interviews—things become more urgent, things become more real and present, because you’re not promised anything.”
I hope it's not too morbid or melancholy of a post this Sunday Slowdown morning. It was probably more an indulgent note to self, as I suppose most of them are. And, it is my hope that there is something of meaning for here, even if it is a simple, and profound, as a new Netflix series that has given me pause and prompted me to share. My intention is always, ultimately, to direct us all back to this moment in time. To be grateful for the beautiful people in our lives, to give grace to ourselves. To thoughtfully look back. To intentionally look forward. To be gratefully present as we step into the gift of another Sunday Slowdown.
In Jane's famous last words, “Your life matters, and you are here for a reason. Every single day you live, you make a difference in the world.”
X Alisa
Photo credit: Vintage Polaroid, Self-potrait, Alisa Barry