Remembering and living

Fern : Bo never knew his parents, and we never had kids. If I didn’t stay, if I left, it would be like he never existed. I couldn’t pack up and move on. He loved Empire. He loved his work so much. He loved being there, everybody loved him. So I stayed. Same town, same house. Just like my dad used to say: “What’s remembered lives.” I maybe spent too much of my life just remembering, Bob.

Nomadland –

Life is about the detours and accidents. The flat tires, good food, fights and friends, running for the train, missing the train, reunions, breaking bread. Remembering isn’t living. Living makes memories.