ABOUT TIME

 Love, Family, and the Passage of Time

It was the beginning of 2024 when I first watched About Time (2013), Richard Curtis’s tender film about time travel, love, and family. Back then, I thought it was just a love story sprinkled with time travel; a sweet, endearing romance between Tim and Mary, filled with heartwarming moments and lines that nestled into my memory.
"I love your eyes, and I love the rest of your face too."
Simple, yet somehow unforgettable. I smiled at their love, at the charm of it all, believing that was the essence of the film.

First Impressions of About Time

When I first saw it, About Time felt like a gentle romantic comedy. A quirky time travel twist gave it flavor, but at its heart, I thought it was a love story where Tim finding Mary, falling for her, and cherishing her.

Re-watching About Time A Year Later

A decade later, I watched it again. I mean, TODAY. And this time, everything shifted. The romance, once the centerpiece, now felt almost secondary like a soft melody playing in the background of something much larger. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about love between two people but about time itself, about family, about the fragile, fleeting nature of our days.

The mechanics of time travel? They didn’t matter. They never did. Because About Time isn’t a story about rewriting the past but more about embracing the present.

The Father-Son Bond in About Time

What stayed with me most wasn’t Tim and Mary’s love but the quiet, unshakable bond between Tim and his father. Their moments together carried a tenderness so profound that it ached.

And those final words:
"The truth is, I now don’t travel back at all, not even for a day. I just try to live every day as if I’ve deliberately come back to this one, to enjoy it, as if it was the full final day of my extraordinary, ordinary life."

They left something heavy in my chest. A realization. A quiet understanding that no matter how much we wish to hold on, time moves forward, indifferent to our longing.

The Life Lesson in About Time’s Ending

Maybe that’s the cruelest part of life that we never quite know when we’re living in the last time of something: our last conversation, our last shared meal, our last chance to hold someone close.

But maybe that’s also the point. To live as though we’ve returned, as though we already know the value of the moment before it turns into a memory.

And so, I sit here now, a year later, thinking about About Time—a movie that once made me dream of love and now makes me mourn the inevitable passage of time.

It’s beautiful. It’s heartbreaking. And it’s perhaps the most human thing of all.

If you’re searching for a film that blends romance, time travel, and life’s deepest lessons, About Time is more than just a movie. It’s a reminder of how extraordinary our ordinary days can be.

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