Nostalgia (2018) Script

Can I get you anything else today?

That's a nice necklace.

Thanks. It was my grandmother's.

My mom gave it to me.

Beautiful ring, too.


It seems valuable.

I don't know about that.

But it is to me though.

I've worn it every day since she passed it on to me.

When are you due?

In January.

Do you know if it's a boy or girl?


It's a surprise.

A mystery.



I can get you change.

It's all yours.

Thank you.

God bless.

You, too.


Yes? Hi.

I'm Daniel Coleman, from Assembly Mutual.

What are you looking at?

If there is anything you want specifically noted as being in need of proper appraisal, just let me know.

I thought that's what you were here to do.

I'm here to make sure the value of your home is more or less what your granddaughter Bethany assumes.

Anything like furniture or art. You know, little odd pieces...

Rare books would have to be... Rare books?


Come on. Have a look around.

You think I got anything like that laying around?

I don't know. You probably don't know either.

We'd have to get somebody who deals more with appraisals to come in and let me know what the value is.

Well, the place itself, it's gotta be worth more money.

Now, certainly. But it doesn't matter.

You know why?

Because they'll just tear it down and build it again.

I just went through that. On both sides of me.

You still live here, though.

Well, what am I supposed to do, move?

Because they closed my spots?

Sure. People have moved for less.

I raised my family here.

My wife, my two kids.

My wife died here.

It was not easy. And you know what?

It's home, and I still like it.

What are you writing?

Just that, as best as I can tell, nothing conflicts with what Bethany claimed was here.

I told her, "Get a Dumpster."

There are things she might want to keep.

For sentimental reasons.

Well, then she should be here.

She was going to be. Last-minute thing. I couldn't reschedule...

Of course. Last-minute thing. She had to change her schedule.

How come nobody thought to ask me if I'd change my schedule?

You know, there's no need. In fact, you don't even need to be here.

A lot of the times I'm not even brought in until after.


After I'm dead?

That, uh...

You could put that one down. I haven't read that yet.

I thought everything was trash.

Well, it is, or will be.

Do you mind if I take a picture of you?


I don't know. Be my guest.

I'm not a relic.


What, I break your camera? No.

It's a great shot.

Thank you.

Why are you still looking around?

Isn't all the stuff adding up?

It all adds up, Mr. Ashmore.

Everything is mathematically consistent with a widower in his 80s who collects pension regularly.

And what if it all turns out to be nothing?

You still get paid?

I still get paid.

The next guy, the appraiser, he only gets a percentage of whatever this stuff is worth.

But he only comes if I determine it'll be worthwhile.

And is it?

There are a few pieces that should be looked at.


Then it ain't all trash, is it?

Thank you for having me, Mr. Ashmore.

Hey, you got a handshake, bud.

No one shakes hands anymore.

Might you be coming back?

No, I don't think so.

You can take that. You can have it.

I think I read this one already.

Have a good day.

I knew he wasn't gonna be able to deal with this on his own.

I knew it.

I knew he wasn't gonna be able to go through all of his stuff.

I mean, no one's gonna fly in there and do it for him.

"Thanks, Bethany."

You gotta understand where he's coming from, though.

I don't want us to end up with every single little thing...

I wasn't talking about every single piece.

I was talking about one thing, okay?

Just... Just one thing that he could maybe say, "Hey, this means a lot to me, and I'd like for you to have it."

Just one thing. It doesn't even have to be of value.

There could still be something.

I'm recommending a walk-through with an appraiser.

I probably can't be there, but you guys should be there for that.

Nothing major, but...

You know, with folks like your grandfather, there's always a chance that underneath ten years of magazines, there's a table worth $10,000.

I don't like to think about my grandfather dying.

I really, really don't.

And you being here can only reinforce the notion that...

sometime soon that's gonna happen.

Have a seat.


So let's say he does decide there's something he wants to bestow.

While that's all warm and fuzzy, I have to ask the question:

Is anything worth anything?

What, um...

What do you want from your grandfather?

I don't think there's anything left.

I mean, I got all of it. Or Dad did.

And I couldn't really say when the whole "if you want it, take it" attitude started.

But, boy, I'll tell you.

His whole "you can't even wait until I'm dead" period started right around the time Grandma died.

He's not a very generous man.


I think he's probably right.

It's all just trash, you know.

It's all just become part of the decor of the place.

That's why it's so easy for him to be... surrounded by it.

I don't think any specific thing has a particular meaning, an individual meaning.

But it doesn't mean it's not related.

You know? Just...

It's some, um... some middle.

You know?

Maybe that's, um, one of the advantages of living a long life...

is you outgrow the tendency to assign emotional meaning to a piece of paper.

Well, we should all be so lucky.

You don't have to outgrow.

Me, I'm hardly the person to tell people that it's wise to accumulate more things in their homes, but you should remain open to the possibility that something... it could be anything... of your grandfather's has remained unseen by him for years.

And you... maybe forever.


A box of love letters.



Lives lived.

So it all falls on me because I live the closest?

That seems to be the way it works.

He's lucky to have you nearby.

I'll walk you out. Yeah.

Hey. Pleasure. Oh.

Thank you. Have a good day. Thanks.

Everything will be okay. Thanks.

Oh! Are you the insurance man?

Daniel Coleman. You must be Helen Greare.


I'd invite you in, but there is no "in."

So? So sorry.

Yeah. This is my home.

This is my kitchen.

This is the living room.

This is the powder room here.

So, uh, what happened?

You know...

I used to be very sloppy about... changing the batteries on the fire alarms.

Ned was always the one that did it.

I would wait until I heard the beeping and then say, "Oh, the batteries ought to be changed."

But he did it before they started beeping.

Every 90 days, like it says on the package.

But I'm better now. I've had to learn how to do it.

So, the fire department still doesn't know if it was just, like, a spark that went wrong or, you know, roll of paper towel left too close to the pilot light, or what.

You probably know all this already.

Well, the details, they're helpful.


Do you know why the fire department was so delayed?

Something about an electrical malfunction.

Oh. They were called, like, 20 minutes before the O'Bryans came home, 11:00 p.m.

Response time is supposed to be... Oh, I don't know.

I understand.

When the wind took the fire to the O'Bryans... that was when I had this moment.

You know, just an awful feeling.

I knew...

I need to go inside and do that thing that people wonder about their whole life.

Decide what you take from a burning building.

I mean, it's easier when it's just a hypothetical question...

instead of when you see the... the tree... that touches both your home and the one next door is on fire.

It's just chaos at that point.

People in their yards, screaming.

The police were here, but a lot of good that did.

They were the ones that came in after me.

I got, like, one minute in my house... before they came and took me out.

Felt like ten seconds.

Well, the rings and broaches belonged to my great-grandmother.

Standing out here, they were the first things I pictured.

I made for them like it wasn't even a conscious decision.

So now I'm upstairs, and already I can hear the police calling my name.

They're inside, downstairs.

So, wouldn't it have been smart for me to take this whole chest?

Oh, God. I don't know. I can't tell you why.

I knew that if I was gonna take anything else, it had to be now.

From this room, our bedroom.

And that's when I... saw this on the mantel.

It was Ned's baseball.

He wasn't a player or anything.

It just was family history.

The ball.

His father gave it to him. It's from the '40s.

You know?

If you asked me now who won what game with it, I couldn't tell you.

It was just "the ball."

He always spoke about it with such pride.

Such value.


It was instinct. It fit in my pocket.

That's when they came in and took me.

When Ned died... um, the first thing that Henry, my son, said was, "What about the ball?"

I mean, when we sat down to go over the estate, you know.

He said, "What about the ball?"

He wanted it.

It was his birthright, as far as he was concerned.

I said, "Well, he could have it," but I just needed to keep on looking at it for a while.

I wasn't ready to not see it there.

It's been in some prominent place in every home we've ever had.

I told Henry when I moved, it would be his.

'Cause I knew that this house, eventually, would be too much for me.

I just didn't know that there wasn't gonna be an "eventually."

It could be worth more than the house.

For claim purposes.

If it is insured and you would have left it behind, I'd be writing you a check next week for the amount of, uh...

Well, it'd be substantial.


Things that mattered more to me, to the children, are gone.

But I have Ned's ball.

I don't understand it or know what to do with it.

I have it.

Helen? Oh, hi.

This is Mrs. Singer. Jane Singer. This is the insurance man.

Oh, very nice to meet you. Would you both like to come and have a cup of coffee?

We've been kind of playing welcome center these days.

Oh, that'll be nice. Okay. Good? Oh, good.

Thanks. Oh, our pleasure. I'll just leave the door open.

Okay. Thank you, Jane.

The insurance covers the home, the car, the valuables.

It's the stuff that's left out.

We've lived here, um, just over four years.

So our restructuring and cleansing and pawning off to the kids was done then.

We didn't get the worst of it.

Helen, I... I can't imagine how it is for you.

Thirty years.

We moved here when Lisa was three and Henry was seven.

Did anything make it out?

Well, we were very lucky because Riley had a safe in his office.

And not a small one either. It was about this big.

And our valuables and irreplaceable heirlooms, and, um...

My family's...

My family's immigration papers. Things over a hundred years old.

We put them all in there. Thank God.

It was a Father's Day gift.

Kind of frivolous, but I-I wanted it.

I always dreamt of having a nice study with a safe.

Well, when I got the study, they bought me the safe.

It was mostly entertaining.

I love pushing the buttons and... resetting the code out of boredom.

Never dreamed it would come in handy.

I'm usually listening to people lament that they never bothered to lock it.

What you're describing is actually quite uncommon.

Not that there was anything of extreme monetary value, aside from my rings and silver.

But you know how it is. It's the personal things.

Personal things.

I'm really glad we put 'em in there.

It's fine. We used to hide little surprises in there.

As a... As a joke.

So if anybody needs a bobblehead from the 1995 All-Star Game, Anna put two in there to get back at me the day before the blaze.

I shouldn't laugh.


We should hit the road. No. Don't be silly.

Please, stay, as long as you want.

We're staying about 50 miles away, with our daughter.

You're... You're welcome to stay.

I've got a drive to look forward to. Thank you.

Daniel, can I ask you something? Please.

What does it do to a person to take all of this in?

All due respect to Helen... this is pretty common, right?

You're clearly not hearing anything that you haven't heard before.

You're just sitting there. You're barely reacting to anything of this...

Jim, Please. That's rude. No.

It's okay. I understand.

You're right.

It's best to not become terribly invested.

I'm not a doctor or anything.

My proximity to tragedy is a smidge further away than somebody who truly has to develop a barrier.

But to be honest... it never hurts me personally.

And it never gets old.

Every story has details I've never heard before.

Every person I talk to, I learn something new.

Not many people get to say that about their jobs.

You will never replace your things.

Or lives.


I find something... magnetic... talking to people like yourself, who could have easily have been trapped inside a burning house... and know it.

Or people who feel some relief that the belongings they've accumulated have avoided similar fates.

And here's the thing.

Nobody wants to be talking to me.

And I think knowing that... makes my job a lot easier.

Lives lived.

Hey, Mom. We're getting ready to hit the hay.

You need anything else for tonight?

No, thanks.

Everything okay?

What do you think?

Good night, Mom. Good night.

Good night.

You'll never be able to get me!

Hey, boys, settle down. Shh, shh, shh.

There you are. Hi.

I wanted to ask you. Um...

That photograph in the guest room of Christmas, is that 2008?

Uh, actually, I think it was 2010.

Oh. Yeah.

I was looking at it this morning when I woke up.

Holidays have been nice here, though.

Oh, yeah. But...

Well, I love coming here to see the boys.

But, you know, Ned never had Christmas here.

His... I mean, you bought the house after he was here.

It's been long enough that I...

I just assumed I was through giving things up.

Now this morning I realized... more to give up.

It's the second Saturday. You know, we had second Saturday cards.

So I guess there'll be no more cards with friends at my house.

Hmm. But cards are light.

You can take 'em anywhere.


But it's... not about the cards.

Okay. Thank you.

I didn't mean it like that.

You could've fooled me.

I'm not being insensitive.

You're just reacting because you're afraid it's inevitable.

Assisted living?

It is completely independent cottages.

But in a facility with employees, staff.

Only if you need anything or want something.

Even just a ride somewhere. Sometimes maybe you don't want to drive yourself.

I like driving myself. I'm fine driving myself.

You have to have thought about where you're gonna live.

The insurance money is... Yeah, you're right.

It's a lot. It's quite a bit.

But you're cash poor.

I am accustomed to having my own house.

Well, your house burned down, and you can't live there anymore!

I don't mean to yell. But come on.

Mom, things are not the same as they were before.

Things have changed. You need a plan. We need...

Well, you know, I can sell some things.

Stop. Don't sell anything.

I mean, the jewelry alone is...

You don't want it.

I mean, Lisa might, but...

We can take care of you.

You've just been saying that you won't.

That's not what I said. And you know that's not what I said.

Those belong to you.

Lisa wants 'em.

She's never admitted to you how badly she wants 'em.

Trust me.

You're just like him.

Always telling me what to do.

I love you, Mom.

Don't feel like you have a limit on how long you can stay here.


She just needs more time.

She has to process it.

I know, but how much?

She has to understand by now that pretending things will somehow go back to the way they were before is ludicrous.

She's an old lady who spent decades looking at these objects.

She still thinks of herself as living in or with these objects.

I just wish she could have gotten more of Dad's things.

Then maybe she wouldn't feel so untethered.

You know, she told me that the logs in the fireplace still had kindling under them and everything from the last fire that your dad built. Mm-hmm.

She thinks that because they'd been there for ten years, it somehow made the fire worse, like a bomb.

She loved that fireplace.

She loved everything.

Once he was gone, she'd never let it be used.

Dad's fire.

The last fire he built.

Such a bummer.

I know her.

I know she can't have half the jewelry without thinking of the other half.

She can't have the car without thinking of everything in the garage.

She won't get rid of it. She's insinuating.

I know she'd never go through with it.

She's too attached to everything it represents.

It's just like his ball.

It's some thing that makes no sense to her but that she doesn't have the ability to detach herself from.


I'll know for certain the day she seriously considers getting rid of the jewelry or the ball is the day I eat my hat.

I almost wish she could.

I'd like the ball, just as Lisa would like everything else.

But for Mom's sake, I almost wish she'd get rid of the stuff.

She's gonna drag it around with her, like an albatross?

I'd be happier for her to see it all gone.


Hi. It's Helen.

I-I hope I didn't wake you up.

I'm sorry to call so late.

Oh, good.

Listen, um...

I wanted to ask you about that gentleman that you mentioned the other night, the re-saler that your daughter found.

Appraiser. I see. Yeah.

Oh, sure.

And you found him really helpful?

Las Vegas?



Well, no, I wouldn't...

I wouldn't send anything really valuable in the mail either.


I'm... I'm not sure.

It's not definite yet. I just...

Well, you know, I just thought that I...

What could it hurt if I gave him a call and see what he says, right?


Yeah, thanks a lot, huh?

And listen, tell Anna... You know, send her my love.

Okay. Thank you.


These are our remainders.

Of our lives, of many forms.



These are our artifacts.

Our scars.



Items that are tangible.


We live our lives and ask...

"What do we leave behind?"

When we look at the pictures long enough, they reappear.

What is the value of anything?

Can what we hold in our hands be the same... as what we hold in our hearts?

Um, hello, Mr. Bleam. This is Helen Greare... calling to confirm what time it would be good for us to meet.

Can I help you?

I'm Helen Greare.

Oh, yes. Oh, my gosh. I'm so sorry. Of course.

It's nice to meet you.

Hi. Welcome. Thank you.

Will Bleam. Come on in, please.

Uh, have a seat. Let's see what you've got here.

I know it's a lot. It's a lot.


Most of the stuff I get is from people like you.

But I also get, you know, some conventions, and, uh, you know, trips I take and other stores, what have you.

And sometimes the families of players reach out...

Please, please, have a seat. Thank you.

But honestly, mostly my reputation, at this point, gets most of the heavy lifting done, so...

Uh, let's take a look at what you have.

People my age come to Las Vegas to gamble away their pensions and their life savings.


Well, you have come to unburden yourself in a different way, huh?

So, why don't you tell me... how you came across this.

Um, my husband's father got it, um, from his father.

And I think it was given to him at a game.

And it's been in the family ever since.

Huh. Well, the good news is I can almost guarantee you it's authentic.

Yeah. Um, you know, there's not a lot of things like this that are in families for generation after generation that turn out to be fake.

Yep. Why is that?

Well, honestly, something like this, it was just a more honest time back then.

There wasn't as much money to be made from collectibles.

That sort of thing.

The only thing we generally have to be careful for is a situation like this, where somebody passes away.

They're going through their valuables, and it's mostly artwork.

You know, I just can't go out 10,000, $20,000 out on something that might be proven to be false.

Oh, no, there's no chance. Of course not.

Not with this. I understand.

Uh, that said, if we're looking at something like this, we are probably looking at something like 80,000 to 100,000.

Um... it's in excellent condition, and, uh, Ted Williams autographs are very scarce, especially on an actual piece of equipment.

Do you know who Ted Williams is? No.

Well, it's a terrific piece.

And the people who specialize in collecting this era, they know what price point they're getting into.

I guess everything here has a story, huh?


Yes. And, you know, I try to relate that to the buyers.

And some of them are actually eager to learn.

Mm-hmm. You know?

But also sometimes my buyers come in looking for a gift.

You know? And so, to that person, the object just sort of appears... on their birthday or their anniversary or their retirement.

You get what I'm saying?

Well... Saying good-bye is hard.

I know that.

And you-you shouldn't, you know, feel ridiculous about that either.

No. It's... It's-It's difficult.

What was your husband's name, if I may ask?


Edward Roger Greare.

I bet Ned liked to talk about the ball.


I bet he... I bet he liked to talk about it a lot.

Tell the same story over and over again.

Yes. Right?

And it's my understanding from the brief conversations that we've had that you didn't retain the legend of the ball.

Is that correct? No.

No. Right. And that's okay too.

It's not your ball. Mm-hmm.

Ned loved the story of the ball.

And you selling it to me doesn't... doesn't change that, doesn't take it away.

You know?


Um, do you have any children?


You know, would either of them maybe want this?

Perhaps. Maybe.

Okay. Well, when you... If you decide to...

But when you tell them, uh...

Worst-case scenario, they may be upset with you for a moment.

But... best-case scenario, I think they will understand and realize that you doing this was the best for you.

Because you have so many other things to remember Ned other than this ball.



Do you have children?


Are you married?

Not recently, no. No.

Uh, she... she left me.


Well, uh...

She came in one day and said that she had had enough.

She didn't love me anymore.

It was right around the time when I started with this place.

And I was... pretty unavailable, to say the least.

But still a bit of a shock.

Uh, about nine years ago.

Still trying to make sense of it.


it's just a thing.

You've never seen it before, and by tomorrow, it'll be up on that shelf.

And maybe by next week, it'll be gone already.

Or maybe it'll sit here for a year or maybe two years.


you won't remember me.

When people come and sit where I'm sitting and feel what I'm feeling...

you'll just be able to tell them, with a little more confidence, that what they're feeling is common.


You won't remember Helen.

Ned's wife.

With Ned's ball.

You'll just know that these things happen.

And widows and... and children have a hard time.

And you give them money.

And... the money does make it easier.

A bit.

And that's okay.

Because, um...

Ned's gone.

And now so is his ball.


Thank you. Mm-hmm. Thank you.

Bleam Collectibles. This is Will speaking.

Hey, Chris, how's it going?

Yes, I did. I thought you'd be interested.

Yeah, it's very fresh. It's still warm, in fact.

I think it was on her husband's side.




Well, she knew it was worth something.



I was very fair.

Yes. Very fair for me.


Listen, I got another call. Can...

What do you mean, no?

I'm gonna take...

Okay, that's $10,000 more than I'm asking.

And you know I'm asking more than it's worth.



I mean, you've seen the pictures. It's absolutely perfect.

No. No, no, no. That won't work.

I'm, uh... I'm flying out tomorrow afternoon.

I'm going home. I'm going to my old home.

I'm gonna help clean out my parents' house with my sister.


Yeah, well, look, nobody knows more than me that when it's time for it all to go, you gotta get rid of it all.

That's right.

All right. I'll talk to you Monday.

Have you talked to them recently?

I did. I called to say that I was coming here.

They were less interested in that fact than I thought maybe they would be.

Come on. Take it easy.

No. This is important to me.

I flew here. Just don't be...

I flew here for this. That's more than they did.

You always fly here. Just don't be negative.

I travel twice a month for work. I know that.

So flying here twice a year is not that big a deal.

I have a very favorable mileage situation.

I just... I can't believe they didn't take more of their stuff, you know.

That... Well, duh.

It's not their stuff anymore. You know what I mean?

At this point. They took what they wanted and they left the rest.

That's the whole point of why old folks move from a house to a condo.

There's less space, less stuff.

You talk down to me so much.

I don't talk... You think I'm an idiot.

I'm not... I don't. I don't. Yeah, you do. Yeah.

And I'm not talking down to you.

I wish you would stay with us.

I don't want to inconvenience you.

Besides, maybe staying here a couple extra nights might make me actually feel something.

Doesn't sound like you.


Whoa. Right?

Yeah, no joke.


This is difficult. I love this house.

I love this place too, but, you know...

Got a lot of good memories here. It's just a house.

That we grew up in. Mm.


I think Tallie's having a really hard time with it.

Hmm? Yeah.

And every...

Christmas and Thanksgiving...

Every memory she has is in here.

Yeah, well, she'll get over it.

I mean, she still has the memories.

Make new ones.

I think it's harder on her them moving away than... than she even knows or...

I don't know.

She was really lucky to have gotten to grow up so close to her grandparents.

There's gonna be other holidays.


God, it was easy to sneak out.

I don't want to spend Christmas in Florida.

Well, better get your serving trays out, 'cause it's on you now.

Oh, geez.

But it's so weird to stay in a house that's been empty for too long.

Well, if I don't make it through the night, you can tell everybody that I died as I lived... in my childhood home.

Uh... Yeah, well...

You're a puzzle, little Bro.

You're gonna meet me at 10:00, right?

Yes. You know, I should refuse to do that out of principle.

Why? You have a principle against storage lockers? No. I love storage lockers.

In fact, I've probably found hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of sales in them.

I just don't think you should be renting one. Oh, God.

You know, just because you have nothing in your life that you love or care about doesn't mean that we all should be the same.

I care about things. I care about things. Sure, so you say.

Okay. See you in the morn. Drive safely.

Drive safely. I'll try.

All right. Later, gator. Bye.

Ooh! You got it.

Oh, man.

I bet that the cost of your two-year lease on this thing is worth three times more than anything you're putting in here.

It's not about the money.

But you have an attic.

You have a basement. You have a house. Can't you put this there?

Well, then I'd have to fucking see it every single day, and I don't want to.

Maybe I just don't want to go downstairs every day and see all this stuff.

Maybe it'll remind me of something that's a little too hard, and I just...

It would get to me. Do you understand? No, you don't.

Well, just saying, what is this, 25 percent of their stuff?

They took 25 percent of it with them.

You take whatever you're gonna take.

So we just throw 50 percent of it into a Dumpster?

I guess so.

Well, this is exploitation of labor.

People usually get paid for this.

I know why Carol left you.

Wow. What a shitty thing to say.

You're such a shit, man.

I love you.

God, this is all junk.

We don't need any of this, all right?

You wanted my professional opinion. This is all junk.

Look through this and see if there's anything valuable.

There's nothing valuable up here.

That's why it's been in the attic our whole life.

These were their wedding present. Who cares?

No, because... From Grandma and Grandpa.

And if it meant anything to them, they would have taken it down to Florida with them.

Oh, come on. These are nice.

I'm gonna save them. Give them to Tallie to take to college.

What? You don't send a kid off to college with bowls and plates from the '50s.

You buy her 60 bucks worth of plastic shit that she'll throw away in two years.

All right. I know. But, I mean...

Just shut up. What am I supposed to do with it?

Donate it. Get rid of it. No.

Give it to Goodwill. Send it to the church donation center.

That is the solution to all of this stuff that isn't direct family ephemera.


You're just... sad.

Uncle Will. Oh, my God, that's me!

Tallie! Hi. Hi.


How'd you know?

"Uncle Will arrives this weekend."

About 1000 times. I get it. Right.

Hi, babe. How was school? I don't know. The same.

"The same, Mom. It was the same. School was the same."

But, uh, how long is this gonna take?

But you just got here. You got somewhere else to go?

Okay. Uh...

Wait a second. Did I show you these? Oh, God.

Dad's rackets. Did I tell you that she got a scholarship to Vanderbilt?

Yes, you told me that. You've told me 1000 times. Of course you told me.

Congratulations, Tallie.

That's very impressive. Thank you.

Yeah, these are cool. I'm gonna save these for you.

I'm gonna play tennis at Vanderbilt with some antique wooden racquets.

Uh, how about this record about a blind guy?

That's Grandpa's jazz. That's his collection. Forget it.

This actually might be worth something.

I thought everything was worthless to you.

No, this is... Some things are not.

These? These are worth something?

Yes, they might actually be worth something because they're first pressings.

And they're in decent condition.

And they probably haven't been played or seen the light of day in over 30 years.

But can't you just get the music somewhere else?

No, darling, this is not that.

But you can just download it.

Honey, don't. No... Yes, but no.

Because then it doesn't exist.

Trust me. This is what I do for a living.


All right.

What are you doing?

No, I...

I just... I don't need anything.

Oh, my God. Suddenly you're so content.

Well, why... why would I bring all this stuff into my room just to move it again in August?

She makes a very good point.

I mean, who are you? I don't...

You know it's a good point. Doesn't make sense.

No, it actually...

So, how long am I gonna have to stay and help?

Are you... Okay, uh, this is...

I was thinking I could go up to Kathleen's lake house with her and Marie.

They invited me. I could be back Sunday afternoon, if you guys are still gonna be here.

No, you can't go, sweetheart. You can't.

I'm sorry. You can't go. I told you about it...

Donna, it's fine. I don't care.

We can do this together. I don't mind. Let her go to her friend's.

Please stay out of it. This isn't... This really isn't...

This has nothing to do with you, but it's just...

We made an agreement, and I just expect you to stick by it, that's all.

No, I will. And I know... I know that it matters.

It's just hard for me to understand what this all means to you.

I get that you grew up with it and that it's probably always been here.

There's just a lot of it, and it takes up so much space.

Space that we don't even have, Mom, so...

I'm just a little confused. That's all.

I mean...

I do like these, uh, little grandma-y things.

But... I don't know.

I mean, being up here, it... it isn't fun.

And it doesn't remind me of spending time here.

I actually never even came up here.

So most of this stuff is stuff that I've never actually seen.

I mean, most of it is probably where it has been since before I was born.


this is... this is your space, not mine.


But it's really cool that you both are so into it, and...

I mean, I'm happy that I get to see you, that you flew here to see us, so...

Yeah. Me, too.

Me, too.

Uh, so I'm... I'm glad you found your records, and if you come by some cool tunes or whatever, you can just send me the name, and I'll download them.

Deal. Uh...

But Kathleen keeps texting me. Can I go or not?

Thank you.

I love you both.

"Being away from you and the kids is just awful.

I told them now that Donna is born, I can't go on company business as often.

I thought you'd appreciate the enclosed photograph.

I bought it at the gas station, along with a Coke.

And it cost a nickel, but they said I could just have it, on account of how thirsty I looked and how badly I needed the Coke.

I left my change on the counter.

I'll be home by the time this arrives, most likely."

"Please show the enclosed clipping from the newspaper to Will.

I think he'll be amused by the sizable collection of geodes that this town prides themselves on.

Had I known I would be in Arkansas during their annual geode festival, I would have made an effort to bring him along.

Do not tell him, but I will bring him home a souvenir geode that I purchased from a merchant in town."

"Sweetheart, I cannot express my excitement to return home to you next week.

Our last Christmas with just the two of us looms.

I may be bringing home a surprise ornament or two for the tree.

I love you. I love you so much.

I love you deeper than I've ever loved anyone."





What? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa. Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What?



Oh, God.

Oh, Donna. Oh, God.

Um... Oh. Um...


Only one of them made it.

Police got ahold of us at 3:00...


A drunk had crossed over the line and drove them off the road.

I guess they never had a chance.

They said, uh, she had died... before the ambulance ever got there.

I'm sorry.


Come here, baby. Come here.

Oh, God, no!

I got you. I got you. I got you.

I got you. No! No!

I wanna fucking do something.

I can't. I don't want... I don't want anyone to fucking touch me!

Don't fucking...

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.

What do I do? What do I do? Let's take a walk.

No, no. What do I do? Let's take a walk.

I don't wanna walk. I don't want to.

Let's be outside. I don't want to walk.

I don't wanna...

I'll get it. I'll get it. I'll get it.

Oh, fuck.

Yeah, it'll be helpful, but just give us a couple of hours.

I think we'll have...

We'll be ready.


Okay. Thank you.

Why don't you go see...

I'm sorry.


I'm so... I'm so sorry.

Kathleen's going to be okay.

She should be fine.

Thank God.

I'm... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say.

Okay. Okay. Okay, listen...

We all wish they were both here. Okay?

Was it a phone call? Hi, sweetie. Hi, Hillary.

Um, yeah. It was a phone call, um, around 3:15.


I guess it wouldn't make sense that they would go to your house, too.

I mean, they wouldn't do that, would they?


I woke up... I woke up...

I woke up and then a car... I heard a car pull up.

And then...

the door slammed, and... and there was... there was these... f... footsteps.

Really slow footsteps. And...

I, uh...

I thought maybe that she had come home, you know, that maybe the trip ended early.

And then we heard knocks on the door and, um...

There was two guys. Yeah.

They were so... They were so sweet. Yeah.


Their job is just to come and tell a mother... outta fucking nowhere... that, you know... that her daughter's... that her daughter's...

She's gone. Gone away.

"Your daughter's gone."

Gone. We're so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Hey. Yeah.

You okay?

She had her computer with her.

And her phone, of course.

Both completely destroyed.

What does that mean?

It means we don't have anything.

I mean, there's access to everything... computer, e-mail, text.

She left everything open. I never even thought about asking for a password.

I'm down there, trying to plan this memorial and realized we don't have any recent photographs.

We've got, like, two. She took 100 a day. We didn't.

Donna wanted to play some music, and we realized we don't know where that is or how to get it or even so much what it was.

Did she have an older phone?


She wiped it clean. Donated it.

Twenty years ago, somebody dies... you could find some dog-eared book and open it, see a passage they'd underlined, read it.

You could find an album, look at where it was worn and... find the song they liked and play it.

You could find a roll of film... and develop...

We don't have anything.

That one's familiar.

She liked that one.



What's all that?

Half the house.

I took some of the stuff from your storage unit. I hope you don't mind.

The Dumpster's being picked up tomorrow. All right?

I wanna take all this stuff off your plate.

Don't want you to worry about it.

This stuff...

is from the Dumpster.

Most of it, anyway.

Some of it's from the attic.

You know, it's, like, letters. Dad to Mom, Mom to Dad.

Nothing earth-shattering. But it shouldn't have been in the Dumpster.

You looked at it? Some, yeah.

Why do you think I kept it?

Come here.


Thank you. You're welcome.

I love you. I love you, too.

I'll be there for you.

Got me? Yeah.

All right, Donna.

Come here.

All right.

You don't have to go back to that house. It's all done.

It's all taken care of.

Okay? Yeah.

That house is the last place you saw her.

So maybe... maybe one day we'll drive by and we'll say hi.

The house isn't going anywhere.

It's just a house.


Right? Right.

I gotta go.

Okay. You leaving?

Not forever.

Just for now.

You guys, I'll be back, okay?

Hi, Kathleen.

You... You look like you're doing pretty well there.

Yeah, I am. Thank you.

I won't ask how things have been, though.

That would be stupid.

It's been a trying few weeks.

Believe me, I know.

How much longer do you have to be on those?

My... My physical therapist thinks maybe only another few weeks.

At first they were saying it could be the end of the summer.

Well, it's good to see you up and around.

Thank you for coming to visit me in the hospital.

Of course.

I mean, I can't imagine what that... what that must be like for you.

I hope that you don't see me as some... reminder.

I don't want you to look at me and ask why I'm here instead of Tallie or Marie.

We don't feel that way at all.

We don't.

I know, but... it'd be okay if you did.

I think it sometimes.

Well, you shouldn't.

That's no way to think.

I'll remember Tallie.

I'll remember her so much.

Do you know what "saudade" means?

Well, I wouldn't if I hadn't have taken an SAT course.

It's, um... a melancholy nostalgia for something that perhaps hasn't happened.

Well, I never got it.

Tallie... Tallie got it, though.

"A pleasure you suffer, an ailment you enjoy."

A strong longing for something that isn't... the present.

Uh, on our way up to the lake we stopped to get these key chains.

It's like a... a little ritual that we had.

Tallie took Marie, Marie took me, and I took Tallie's.

I don't know. It feels like something that you should have.

It's unfair, isn't it?

There's gonna be so much that she misses, like things that I know she would like.


Like music and movies.


I want you both to know that I'll think about you every day.

Bye-bye. Bye.


The remainder.

Hold it.

It may be all you have left.

Let it shine in you.

And let it find you.

Let it through that small, unseen possibility and wrap its arms around you to take you home.