The final scene of the movie Love Actually is worth a quick look. The closing is particularly meaningful in parity with the opening of the more-interesting-than-average love story. We hear, as preamble, a voiceover explaining, “Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport.” In the sixty-second post-script the audience is treated to a moving montage of airport arrivals. Children gleefully bolt into the waiting arms of parents, parted lovers fold into one another, and separated friends or family reunite in tearful embraces. Director Richard Curtis stationed a camera crew at Heathrow and instructed them to film folks in the act of welcome and then to ask for permission to use the footage. We see a quickly expanding jigsaw of greeting to the soundtrack of The Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows What I’d Be Without You.”
Though some might disagree, this conclusion avoids cliché if only because the hugging, the I-missed-you mess of tears, and relieved smiles are, well, actual. And we have all been in that embrace. We have welcomed someone back into our lives with a shoulder-grabbing clutch or a face-holding gaze of, “Yes! Yes! You are here.”
Still, we minimize or forget the ways we pushed away those we cherish, how we have said, “No, I am not present right now.” We wince recounting the times we barricaded the portals to our own souls with or without intent. It is Elul; time to put out the welcome mat for the improved self by opening wide the doors of demonstrative and spoken affection to the dear ones we encounter every day. Stand at the gate of your own life with arms and hearts and spirits wide open. Affirm the tremendous privilege of being surrounded by caring others. Sing loudly your own song of gratitude to God for being what you are when you are with them.
Read Lia Mandelbaum’s response to Rabbi Abrahamson’s Jewel HERE.
