Every narrator by its very definition is unreliable, because when you tell a story, there's always an essential distance between the story itself and the telling of said story, right? So therefore, every story that has ever been told has an unreliable narrator. The only truly reliable narrator would be someone hypothetically telling a story that unfolds before our very eyes which is obviously impossible. So what does that tell us? The only truly reliable narrator is life itself. But life itself is also a completely unreliable narrator because it is constantly misdirecting and misleading us and taking us on its journey where it is literally impossible to predict where it's gonna go next. No one knows where the story is going, nor who the hero in it are going to be.
You've had many ups and downs in your life, too many. And you will have more. This is life. And this is what it does. Life brings you to your knees. It brings you lower than you think you can go. But if you stand back up and move forward, if you go just a little further, you will always find love. I found love in you. And my life, my story, it will continue after I'm gone, because you are my story. You are your father's story. Your uncle's. My body fails me, but you are me. So you go now. Give me a beautiful life, the most beautiful life ever. Yeah? And if life brings us to our knees, you stand us back up. You get up, and go farther, and find us the love. Will you do that?
I'm not sure whose story I have been telling. I'm not sure if it is mine, or if it's some character's I have yet to meet. I'm not sure of anything. All I know is that, at any moment , life will surprise me. It will bring me to my knees. And when it does, I will remind myself... I will remind myself that I am my father. And I am my father's father. I am my mother. And I am my mother's mother. And while it may be easy to wallow in the tragedies that shape our lives, and while it's natural to focus on those unspeakable moments that bring us to our knees, we must remind ourselves that if we get up, if we take the story a little bit farther. If we go far enough, there's love.
The most poking part is the imagined conversation between Grandpa and Dylan:
Grandpa: How are you feeling, kiddo?
Dylan: I feel like my whole life is gonna be marked by death and tragedy. I crave a happy life, grandpa. I have almost desperate craving for stability and happiness hike, the way fat people crave chocolate, or lostrs crave rescue. I want to live a big great fantastical life, but I'm concerned that the tragedy that seems to follow me, the tragedy that burst to me will prevent that from ever happening. And I don't know if I could stand another body bullet like this .
Are you gonna die, grandpa?
Grandpa: Yes, I am, probably sooner than you'd like, kiddo. I'd be honest, I'm gonna fight like hell and stick around for you as long as possible, to prevent one more death from coming onto where's near your doorstep. I'm gonna get on the fucking treadmill, cut back on the red meat. I'm gonna do my best, it's just for your teenage years would not lose one more god damn thing. I'll gonna do it for your mother and father. I'll gonna do it for your grandma. Most of all, I'm gonna do it for you, granddaughter. I'm gonna squeeze out ten more years from this decrepit old body, for you, my girl , my angel.
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