When I was young, someone told me about heaven.
In my mind, it was a peaceful place. It was my grandmother sitting in the sunshine with my dog, Penny, in her lap. For the longest time, this was the picture I conjured when I thought about death. In it, there was no fear. As I’ve grown, so has my picture of heaven; my grandmother and my childhood dog are joined by other pets, family members, and dear friends. I realize that one day I, too, will be a part of that which has passed from this earth. But in the meantime - before we get to sit in the sun - there is something we all must do, and that is to live.
It is in this simple truth that this film is rooted. It is about a man who has worked the land all of his life, about the changes that come with growing old. It is about getting used to the hole that is left when something we love leaves us, and about the life that remains vivid in a memory. Above all, I wrote this film to speak to the feeling of being left behind. One of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced is the anguish that comes from continuing on with life after others leave this earth. Often, the greatest suffering does not come in death, but in the life left behind in the wake of death. To continue on after those you love are gone takes courage, strength, and a great amount of hope.
This film is a representation of that gap between departures, in which days can feel like years. It is during this hour that the memories we hold gain infinite value, while present time becomes empty of meaning. Routine becomes the only thing that can serve to fill the moments - a metronome marking time through each passing day. This film is the portrait of a man who is waiting patiently to go home.