Previously on The Big C...
So, the hospice, huh?
How does this feel?
I really like it here.
This is how I want to go.
It hasn't been easy not having you around.
Over my dead body
are you not graduating on time.
You're doing a great deed
donating your kidney to a stranger.
- We need to go see dad. - You hate dad.
He's not that bad, Sean.
I think it is incredibly big of you
- to make amends with dad. - Fuck him!
I have to turn in some "Just Clothes" designs
to sir Isaac Mizrahi.
He's fashion royalty.
- Too much? - No. Love.
How long do most of us stick around for?
Some people go for months.
You never really know what's coming.
- synced by honeybunny / corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
- Yeah! - Fantastic!
Whoo!
I want you to play that at my funeral
just to prove that it's never too late
to start something new.
I also... I have a list.
There's a caterer that will do the spread
for the two-day viewing.
- Great, can we be done now? - Almost.
I don't know what to do about dad.
Fuck dad.
It's like an automated response with you.
Fuck, yeah. Asshole.
- I need to call him. - Fuck him!
We haven't talked to him
since we went to his house last year and told him off.
I mean, he doesn't even know I'm sick.
He's not even an asshole. He's the whole ass.
Okay, just stop. Stop!
Adam, I don't want you talking like that when I'm gone.
Whoa. Are you okay?
Yeah.
You want me to call him for you, honey?
No. I should do it.
Not like I'm his favorite guy anyway.
I could call him if you want.
No, it's okay, Adam. It's just...
it's a shame you don't have
a relationship with your grandpa.
Yeah, it's a real shame you don't get to hang around
with this really mean guy we know.
What if we never see him again?
- Fuck him. - Okay, I got to go.
Where are you going?
I'm going to hang out
with Lydia and Jeff and some friends.
- Where? - Uh, Jeff's house.
We're gonna play some video games,
you know, smoke some pot, do some blow,
maybe some speedballs, and then go for a drive, so...
Well, then do you think
maybe you could squeeze some homework
in between speedball and the joyride?
Uh... yeah, I will.
- I love you. - Bye.
- See you, dad. - See you, Sean.
- See you. - Buddy.
Why is he always rushing out of here?
Maybe it's because you're talking about your funeral
like it's a grocery list.
It was a little cavalier.
Well, you know how much I love crossing things off a list.
Oh, I get it. God, I so get it.
You're active. You're doing something.
That's what keeps you from totally losing it.
You know, I'm doing all these tests
right now for the transplant.
And it feels so good
to be actively moving towards a goal.
I'm thinking about what I can give next...
bone marrow, blood, for sure.
You know, I might even get my tonsils out.
Not to donate,
but I don't really need them.
Yeah, see?
That's how I feel.
There you are.
Here I am. Nice pocket square.
You know, Andrea,
my first week here, I looked around the classroom.
I studied everybody's first sketches,
and I made some snap judgments.
And how did I do?
Well, I thought you were gonna be my big attitude problem
who thought she was God's gift to design.
I envisioned us in a big fashion fight...
feathers flying, beads thrown,
words said that can't be taken back.
We can still do that.
But you surprised me.
You amused me. You took my breath away.
- Are you gonna propose to me? - Yes, I am.
I propose that you come to New York this summer
and intern for me.
I'll pay you just enough to put you
in a bug-infested apartment the size of a closet.
You'll be living the dream.
That is my dream.
Oh, my God! That's my dream!
- Yay! - Yay.
I know what it is.
- It's an "s." - Mm-hmm. Ha.
Damn it.
I wish there was a way I could check on you guys.
Let's make a signal.
If your electric toothbrush
goes off when you're not using it,
- it's just me saying hi. - Okay.
But what if that really freaks me out?
♪ Knock, knock
Hi, Cathy. Paul.
Hello.
I have some information
I wanted to share with you.
Would now be a good time for a chat?
Have a seat.
So, your insurance covers four months
of on-site hospice care.
And next Friday, you will have been with us
exactly four months.
So, we need to make a plan.
A plan for what?
Where you're going to go.
What do you mean where am I gonna go?
I don't want to go anywhere.
Do we just have the worst insurance ever?
Actually, this is very standard.
And your insurance does cover home hospice care,
which would start as soon as you get home.
And that would include a hospice nurse
coming in to check on you several hours a day.
Okay, what if we wanted to stay here?
How much would it cost to pay out of pocket?
Well, unfortunately,
we are an insurance-based hospice,
so we can only provide care through your plan.
- You don't take cash? - Mm-mm.
Who doesn't take cash?
I mean, look, we... we know you have room here.
I mean, that bed's been empty for months.
You know what? It's okay, Cath.
It's actually great.
I get to take my bride home again.
Actually, I thought you might be excited about going home.
I'm excited. I'll get you all set up, honey.
You can curl up with your own blanket.
We had a woman here a few months ago
who begged to go home
just to sit in her favorite rocker
on her sun-porch.
And her husband said that that is where she passed
with a smile on her face.
If I wanted to sit on my frickin' sun-porch,
I would never have come here.
But I did come here,
because I don't want our son to associate our house
with the place where his mother died.
"Oh, that's the room she fell down in.
That's the room where she finally passed."
I came here to die.
Well, you have until Friday.
He said that I inspire him.
I'm not surprised.
You inspire me.
I figured at first that he was, like, creating
some new big-gal line,
but it's regular skinny clothes.
Are you winking at me?
I'm sorry.
It helps me focus. Go on.
And this is really cool.
We both get good news on the same day.
I get a job, and you're going home.
Yep.
What do you mean I'm shellfish?
I like seeing you guys on my rounds.
Oh, my God.
It's like a joke.
A priest, a rabbi, and a Muslim dude...
No, an imam.
- All walk into a bar. - A hospice.
Andrea, would you ask them to come over here?
Where do you think we go when we die?
It's the question I'm most often asked,
second only to, "how long is the service?"
I get that one too.
Catholic thought is that you go to heaven,
where believers enjoy the presence of God
and the freedom from suffering and sin.
That sounds nice.
All right, rabbi, what you got?
Well, the torah does not discuss an afterlife.
We focus on olam ha ze... this world...
the here and now.
Well, my "here and now" is about to get up and go.
So, can you give me something to get excited about?
Well, there is a famous midrash
that describes souls in the afterlife
at a huge banquet table,
sharing delicious food.
- That's better. - I like Jewish food.
Oh, same here.
Our paradise, Jannah, is pretty nice.
You get to wear fancy robes,
and you can recline on couches.
I might be Muslim.
But the sick and the dying have to wait their turn to go.
It's a big tease.
The essence of faith
is surrendering to God's will.
And his timing.
I take great comfort
in knowing that my life and death
is no more important than others.
But if I have to stay here
and wait for God to decide when he's ready to let me go,
why does it have to be so painful?
Your illness is not just to test you,
but to test the charity of others.
Have you seen generosity and kindness
in the people around you?
Well, we believe that beauty
and the knowledge of that goodness is Allah.
We believe it's God.
We're not sure.
Oh, lord Jesus Christ, most merciful lord of earth,
we ask that you receive this child into your arms,
that she may pass in safety from this crisis.
As thou hast told us with infinite compassion,
let not your heart be troubled.
Ye believe in God, believe also in me.
How you doing, Adam?
I'm tired.
You look tired.
All my friends are partying
because they're almost out of school,
and I'm still taking tests.
Well, you dug your own hole.
Now jump in.
I'm ready.
I don't want it to get any more painful...
not for me,
but more importantly for my family.
I apologize
if I didn't have enough faith in my life
or the right kind of faith.
But right now...
I believe in you.
I believe you can help me.
Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake...
that'd be good.
God damn it.
Not only did you think that you could get everyone
and everything under control before you died,
but you actually thought that you could control
when you died?
Well, not just me.
I thought I could invoke a little divine help.
Yeah, but isn't having faith largely defined
by surrendering control?
I have surrendered control.
I need someone to help me go to the bathroom.
I've completely given up trying to look cute.
I'm reconciling the fact
that my dad and I will never be close.
And I won't get to see Adam graduate from high school.
Yeah, but you're also afraid
that your death might screw up Adam.
That's not the same as trusting
in a higher plan for a greater good.
I thought therapy was supposed to make you feel better.
- Not necessarily. - Hmm.
Then you're doing great.
Why, thank you.
So, if I sign something
saying I'm willing to meet the person
that I'm donating my kidney to
and they sign something saying they're willing to meet me,
then it doesn't have to be anonymous.
And guess what.
We both signed.
I'm meeting him. His name is Ray.
You don't even seem nervous.
No, no. I'm over that part now.
Hey, you know how you hear these stories
that sometimes donors and donees
become lifelong friends?
Well, maybe now that he'll have a little piece of me in him,
maybe he'll become like a brother.
- You know? - Sean...
Now, I know that I've judged you for not being typical,
but you do amazing things.
You help people, which is why
you're the person I'm asking to help me now.
With what?
I'm ready to go.
Uh, where?
On my adventure to the great beyond.
And if I don't die naturally in here by Friday,
I have to die in the house in front of Adam,
and I don't want to do that.
And most importantly,
I want to do this last hurrah with you.
But I'm relying on your amazing ability not to judge.
And I love you,
which is why...
my dying wish is that...
you help me die.
Y... you are a fucking crazy lady!
Hey. Hey, crazy lady,
what did you just do with my sister?
Did you eat her?
If I looked in your mouth right now,
would Cathy be down there screaming,
"hey, this crazy bitch just gobbled me up,
but I'm totally sane, and I'm down here"?
Just keep it down, Sean.
I'm not gonna help you kill yourself, Cath.
What do you think vegan kidney donors do, huh?
We save lives, not destroy them.
- I just want to... - What?
Participate in my own death,
acknowledge it, accept it.
It's not like I'm cutting my life short.
I know my time is up.
You don't know that.
You could have ten days, or you could have six months.
I can't walk, Sean.
My vision is so messed up.
I'm terrified of going blind and hearing your voice
and not being able to see your face.
The pain medication they give me...
it doesn't take it all away anymore.
And I'm hurting all the time now, Sean.
Now, look, I might be weak-minded,
or maybe I'm just not framing this right,
but I want to go...
now.
Well, why me? Huh?
Why not... why not Paul?
You're supposed to be partners with him
in sickness and in health.
Paul definitely wouldn't get it.
I'm worried he's not gonna honor
the DNR I signed.
Well, I don't get it either.
Okay. That's fine.
Her birthday is in two months.
We have to plan something really meaningful, you know?
Great idea.
Hey, everybody.
- Hey, man. - Hey, Sean.
Check out this cashmere blanket I got for Cathy.
It's like sleeping with a bunny.
Yeah. It's nice.
Who's, uh, gonna go see her tonight?
- I am. - I'm going tomorrow.
Me too.
Why? Is she worse?
No. No. She... same.
Just... you never know, so, you know...
it's good to say what you want to say.
That's all I'm saying.
What's that?
It's just to keep track of her medications.
One of the nurses at the hospice
taught me how they make their charts.
Buddy, you left off Tuesday.
Oh, shit.
- It won't come off. - Why not?
It's permanent marker.
Damn it, Adam. What the hell?
I just reached into the drawer.
I didn't think about it.
Yeah, well, you should've thought about it.
- It's not a big deal, is it? - Oh, I don't know.
Is it a big deal if she doesn't get the right pills?
You know what? Let's just skip Tuesday.
Who cares, right?
I mean, if she doesn't get her pain medication on time
and I'm in the garage and I can't hear her scream,
who cares, right?
Yeah, you're right. Fuck it. No big deal.
W... whoa, Paul.
I mean, why are we even trying to make this place look nice?
I know. Let's let her drag herself up the stairs,
and if she falls down...
Oh, God!
It's okay, buddy.
It's okay. It's okay.
It's okay.
I'm scared.
I know.
She doesn't want to come home, you know.
Can I tell you something?
And I hate myself for this.
I don't want her to come home either.
If you still want to do this thing,
I'll help you.
Once you have the plastic tubing
and the plastic hood,
you need 2 helium tanks for 50 party balloons,
uh, which you can rent or buy.
If I rent them, you have to return them.
The first tank should kill you.
But the second tank is just in case something goes wrong.
God almighty, how do you sleep at night?
Really well.
I could hardly sleep at all when my wife
was in the final stages of lymphoma
and begged me not to let her die in the hospital.
W-we found this group,
and they told us about some options.
And then we found a sympathetic doctor
who gave us some drugs that I mixed...
I mean, that she mixed into her coffee.
And her final words were, "thank you, love."
The hood...
doesn't seem very discreet.
And... and then Adam would know.
Is there anything less dramatic?
Well, some people take as much morphine as they can
and then have someone else place a bag over their head
when they've fallen asleep
and then dispose of the bag after.
No! Whoa.
I am not suffocating my own sister.
Remember at camp?
You loved to hold me underwater.
Oh, my God, Cathy. Don't say that.
I was trying to torture you, not kill you.
So, how do we get in touch
with one of these sympathetic doctors?
We're not allowed to give out names.
Too bad you don't live in Oregon.
Yeah, that's one of a few things
I feel bad about right now.
It's a lot to take in. Here's my card.
If you have any questions or want to talk some more,
just give me a call.
Hey, totally great and weird to meet you.
All right.
Look, I have got to go now
and meet my kidney brother Ray.
And we'll talk more about this when I get back, okay?
Oh, hey.
Don't go to the party store before I come back.
Mr. Tolke, this is Ray Milson.
Uh, Sean. Sean. Call me Sean.
This is my wife Janelle.
Can I just give you a hug?
If you don't mind, I'm going to take care of a few things,
and let you all get acquainted.
Well, I really appreciate what you're doing, Sean.
Oh, it's my pleasure, Ray.
Um, this has been a really good experience for me.
My sister's dying.
So, being able to focus on something positive
like kidney surgery... it's been just great.
I'm so sorry to hear that.
If there's anything you or your family need,
we'd love to help you out in any way we can.
That's very nice of you, but we're okay.
Thanks.
We're just so grateful to you.
- We brought you a gift. - It's sort of a thank-you.
No matter what happens,
the fact that you're willing to do this for a stranger
means the world.
Oh.
I'm sorry. I... I don't want that.
I... it's just a token.
I don't value material goods.
Well, they say once you go Rolex, you never go back.
Are you trying to buy my kidney with a watch?
Absolutely not.
It's just a thank-you.
No, "thank you" is just a thank-you.
That's a watch,
the cash value of which could go to pay somebody's health care
who will die of their kidney disease
without ever being able to go to the doctor
to find out what's killing them.
We didn't mean to insult you.
If you don't want the watch...
You insulted humanity.
You know, you're the reason I, just this minute,
decided to go live back on the streets.
- You're homeless? - No, I am a freegan.
I am occasionally homeless by choice.
Well, all homeless people are homeless by choice.
What the Rolex is that supposed to mean?
There are plenty of people
who don't take proper advantage of opportunity.
Holy fuck, Ray.
If your head's that far up your ass,
you should be able to kiss your kidney good-bye
on its way out.
Guess what.
I got Wesley to cough up the name
of a Kevorkian-type doctor in Oregon.
They are so civilized there.
If you are terminal, they... they write you a prescription,
you drink a little drink, you go to sleep.
Wow. Sounds great.
And that wonderful doctor
is going to give me that drink.
But he won't put it in the mail.
So, I need you, please. You need to get to Oregon.
You need to show him my scans
and bring back the goods.
It'll give you plenty of time before your surgery on Monday.
It doesn't matter,
'cause I'm... I'm not doing the surgery anymore.
So, uh, where am I supposed to go
to meet your doctor feel-no-more?
Why aren't you doing the surgery?
Just found out my kidney brother, Ray,
is a fucking elitist bigot.
So, I'm just going to let him die, go to Oregon,
get the stuff to come back and kill you.
As a pacifist, I'm gonna have a lot blood on my hands,
but it feels right.
Sean, you can't let this man die.
No, no, it's okay. He's completely crazy.
He doesn't believe in homeless people.
Look, you don't know.
I mean, maybe there's a lot of good things that Ray does.
I doubt it.
He might give to an animal charity.
Look, even if he isn't generous,
maybe your act of generosity will change him.
You'll be giving him years
to have the opportunity to change.
I...
Even if he doesn't,
maybe there are other people who love Ray,
warts and all, very much.
You'd be giving them at least the opportunity
to have more holidays with him,
to feel that love before it turns to heartache.
I can't do both, not by Friday.
I'm supposed to have another round of blood work.
And they asked me not to travel
to avoid any last-minute disease.
- Oh. - See?
Let me do this.
It's more important you die than he live.
No, it isn't.
My life or my death
are no more important than anyone else's.
W... what are you gonna do, then?
I've been having this real...
push-pull thing with God lately
and the reason for his or her timing.
You know, I've never really died before,
so maybe I just need to play the whole thing out.
Take it as it comes.
What? What's wrong?
A pacifist with blood on his hands.
I... I mean...
I never even killed a spider before.
And here I was, ready to take two people out.
Your home hospice nurse is coming this afternoon.
I think her name is Ina.
It's "ee-na." I talked to her on the phone.
Oh, yeah? Is she nice?
- Yeah, she sounded awesome. - She's supposed to be terrific.
You're going home 'cause you're a fighter.
Hmm?
'Cause you told your cancer
that you're gonna fight till the end.
That's why you get to go home.
They didn't expect you to live for four more months,
but you did.
And now you could be one of those stories
where you leave hospice,
and you live for years and get cured
and beat this thing for good.
You know, healthy people, they've really...
they've got to stop saying things like,
"she fought to the end,"
or, "he battled cancer,"
because then when they die, you have to say...
"they lost their battle to cancer."
You're saying they're a loser.
They're a loser because they died?
And what were their choices?
I just meant that...
did you ever think that if we all live forever,
no one would ever have babies.
There'd be no space.
Dying's necessary. It's important.
It sucks.
So, when we do...
don't criticize us on the way out.
Just say...
"Good-bye,"
and, "thank you,"
and, "you're not a loser."
Here are your morphine patches,
and I brought an extra blanket here,
in case you want.
Lord, it's chilly here for me.
I guess that global warning hasn't come to us
- here in Minnesota. - It's "warming."
I believe we were discussing my wife's schedule.
Of course. Right.
I'll be by every morning to check on you.
You can always administer your pain meds yourself.
Now, are you... are you comfortable here, hon?
Yeah. Thank you.
How do you say your name?
Oh. "Ee-na." It was my grandma's name.
I hated it growing up.
Then I realized it could've been worse.
I could've have been named after my other grandmother.
Her name was Hortense.
Hortense.
Can you even imagine?
You know what I can't imagine?
Is getting through this checklist in the next hour.
Paul.
Morphine patches as needed.
Expect some wooziness.
Wooziness I can handle.
She might seem almost drunk.
I wish.
I had a patient once...
a real nice older gentleman...
he used to drink a whole bottle of gin
every morning.
He called it his medicine.
By the time I got there,
he'd be naked and dancing to his old burl ives records.
- Do you ever stop talking? - Paul.
I don't care about drunken old men
and grandma Ina.
- "Ee-na." - Whatever!
My wife is sick.
Can we please just cut to the chase here?
You'll be fine.
And you have my number, S.
And I will see you tonight, Cathy.
Thank you, Ina.
Holy shit. I want to strangle that woman.
She's kind, Paul.
She's chatty and kind. Be nice.
Oh, my God, I've already lost her number. Fuck.
Paul.
I'm sorry, honey.
I'm just freaked out
that I'm not gonna be able to take care of you right.
And, you know, chatty fatty... she knows everything anyway.
And so what's left except for me to just screw something up?
I need your help.
I need you to get my dad.
I was thinking...
maybe I'm hanging on because I don't have closure with him.
He doesn't even know I'm sick.
He doesn't return my calls.
I need you to get him and bring him here.
But he hates me.
You hate Ina.
At least it gets you out of the house.
Who died?
Hey, bud.
- Been a while. - Sure has.
Last time I saw you, you asked me for money.
That was a loan, right?
It was a while ago, and I paid you back,
with interest, remember?
You've gotten hefty.
Can I come in?
So, what's the occasion? You need some more cash?
Well...
I'm actually pretty successful now.
I'm a, uh, motivational speaker of sorts.
That sounds gay.
I'm gonna get right to the point.
I need you to come back
to Minneapolis with me to see Cathy.
Last time I saw Cathy, she showed up here
to tell me what an asshole I was.
Yeah. Let bygones be bygones, right?
And now she keeps leaving messages for me
like she's got some more crap she wants to lay on me.
Nah, I don't need to see her.
Bud, it's very important.
Disrespecting her father like that?
No. I'm done with her.
She's pretty much done with all of us, bud.
She's dying.
Cathy is dying, and she needs to see you,
and you need to see her.
She wanted to tell you that herself,
but oops, too late... the cat's out of the bag.
- Jesus. - You owe this to her.
You're her father. Your daughter is dying.
And I don't even like you.
But I do know if you don't go see her,
it'll probably haunt you the rest of your life,
which, for some very unfair reason,
is gonna be a lot longer than hers.
I got a card game tonight.
Are you shitting me?
I'm gonna go outside,
and I'm gonna wait in my car until you do the right thing
and get your asshole ass into the seat next to me.
How long is this gonna take?
Are you drunk?
Yep. I'm planning to stay that way.
So, the secret is plain old lard.
That's what makes the crust so crispy and delicious.
These days, lard is a dirty word,
but I won't make a pie without it.
I'm sorry my husband was rude to you, ina.
Oh, honey, don't you worry about that.
I've got thick thighs and a thick skin.
Besides, he's not wrong. I am a big old chatterbox.
- You're an angel. - Oh, no.
I feel lucky every day to have a chance
to work with people like you.
It's a blessing to be around the dying.
Come on.
It doesn't get to you... all the gloom and doom?
My husband and I... we try to squeeze in
a little fun vacation now and then,
but it doesn't happen much.
But it's okay.
I like what I do.
When people are close to death,
they open up like flowers.
They teach me so much,
and that I can provide a little comfort,
well, it sure makes me feel good.
All right, young lady.
I will see you tomorrow.
Ina?
Yes?
Will you make me a pie?
I would be honored.
Special delivery!
Oh, dear.
Is he... is he all right?
- I'm fine. How are you? - He's soused.
Hey, I know you.
Here we go.
There.
- What happened? - I told him.
I told him you were sick.
He pissed me off, and I told him.
I'm sorry.
He drank most of his liquor cabinet
and two zimas at the mini mart
while I was gassing up.
It's okay.
Hi, daddy!
Hey. You're pretty.
Well, you got him here.
Yeah.
"A new study concludes
that most Americans now believe
that global warming is a real thing... "
Did you hear that?
"And that people are causing it."
Okay, I said you could use my laptop,
not read out loud from it.
I'm in crisis mode, my boy.
I got to school my kidney on the lefty world
before it ends up embedded in a right-wing asshole.
I've only got about 12 hours left.
This morning, I read a handbook
on how to make hemp clothing.
Tonight, it's a little mother Jones and some yoga.
If I were this guy,
I'd be worried that your kidney was gonna make me go crazy.
Yeah, so what if it did?
I'd be doing that guy a favor.
He's as dull as a compost heap.
You know, if you ever need to talk
about what's going on with your mom...
No, I'm good.
Okay.
Hey, uh, do me a favor.
Pull my ass.
No.
He looks so sweet.
All his worry lines go away when he's sleeping.
You'd never know he's such a motherfucker.
I never should have asked him
for that loan to buy the house.
You paid him back.
He gets to hold it over my head forever.
You know, "my no-good son-in-law
couldn't even afford to buy his family a damn house."
God, I feel like punching him in his passed-out face.
Plumbers.
You know, this is just so like him, you know?
You're the one that's sick. He gets drunk.
So he gets all the attention.
I mean, couldn't he put you first for once?
- Would it kill him? - Before it kills me?
I doubt it.
It's like the flowers at our wedding.
All you wanted were some peonies.
That's all you wanted.
He got carnations...
'cause they're cheaper, and he was paying.
You deserved the peonies.
But, hey...
I got you...
the man who married me despite my...
drunk, cheap, narcissistic father.
Low bar.
I'm so pissed...
that you're going.
Oh.
I always loved your hands.
Even when I hated your guts, I loved your hands.
They still make me feel safe.
You should be proud of those hands.
They built me that playhouse in the backyard.
Remember that?
The one the raccoon moved into when I went to high school?
Goddamn raccoons... they ate all your mother's basil.
Thank you for building that house for me.
So, you're sick.
Yeah.
I'm sorry about all the crap
I said to you the last time I saw you.
I was just... I was so angry
about how you raised us or didn't raise us.
But the truth is...
you did your best, I think.
I know you loved us.
I mean, I wish you could've said it more, but I know.
And in the end,
you only raise yourself, right?
And I'm pretty happy where I ended up.
I have a wonderful son.
You haven't see him since he was a little boy.
And God knows I haven't been the perfect parent,
but I try.
I try and teach him some of the things you taught me...
And a lot of the things you didn't.
But, yeah, I got to be here and try it out.
So, thank you...
you know...
for giving me life.
I don't know what to say.
I love you, dad.
Why are you being so nice to me?
'Cause I don't have anything left to lose.
You always had the bluest eyes,
just like your mom.
I remember the day we brought you home from the hospital.
And I hired this fancy photographer,
you know, to take photographs.
That's what we did in those days.
We took photographs, okay?
Not the shit that they have on cell phones.
So, anyway, he was there.
And, of course, you were sound asleep.
And your mom wouldn't let me wake you up.
So, right after the guy goes, you wake up.
Those big beautiful eyes.
I chased the guy down the street two blocks
and dragged him back...
because he needed to get your eyes.
You were like this little angel.
I wanted to give you everything.
Except peonies for my wedding.
Oh, come on, who pays that kind of money for flowers?
What? It was just $400 more.
Yeah, $400.
I was getting married.
It shouldn't be you checking out.
It should be me.
- Uncle Sean, wake up. - Mm.
- Operation day. - Oh, God.
Whoa.
Oh, I was having the most amazing dream.
I was... I was frolicking in the surf
with a naked Gloria steinem.
Oh.
You know, I think this kidney
might be just run out of that operating room
and join a commune.
Who's Gloria steinem?
Let's go.
Oh.
Boom, I'm telling you, right through the pump.
He drops like a stone.
He's gonna dress out at 180 pounds.
I'll fill up your fridge. Good morning.
Holy shit. He actually came.
- We're having breakfast. - Yeah, I can't eat.
I'm having an operation in four hours,
so, uh, no food, no liquids.
Ah, they're gonna fix your brain?
Dad, he's giving away his kidney.
To a total stranger.
Well, now, that's crazy.
Says the man who only slept in army-issue pajamas.
They're marine corps-issue skivvies...
That's shorts, for you civilians.
I'm a veteran.
- Hey. - Hey.
Yeah, I know Adam. Look at the... come here.
Look at the size of this guy.
You're big like me, huh?
Hey, you probably wouldn't remember this...
You caught your first trout with me.
You were this big.
This fish almost yanked you right out of the dinghy.
- I totally remember that. Yeah. - Do you, really?
Listen, you ought to come fishing this summer.
Come on up. You should.
- I'd love to. - Great. Great.
Bring your colored friend with you.
- Whoa! - Oh, lovely.
It's okay. It's okay.
- I'd love to, Mr. Tolke. - There you go.
Adam, set the table.
We're having my favorite... grits and eggs.
I can't. I have to go.
Where?
I'm going to play basketball with some buddies of mine.
Dude.
Adam, the whole family is here.
Andrea leaves tomorrow for New York.
We're all together. Stay.
I can't. They're, uh, waiting for me.
- Adam. - Mom, I'm sorry, okay?
I got to go.
Sorry.
He just keeps rushing off.
I don't know where he's...
Time to eat.
Or not.
You know what I've been thinking about?
That time dad forgot us at the racetrack?
I remembered. I came back, didn't I?
Last words.
That's sick.
Well, it's important.
They can sum up a whole life perfectly.
And the good ones get recorded for history.
You know what Elizabeth I said?
"All my possessions for a moment of time."
How lovely is that?
And George Harrison said, "love one another."
Oh, someone's been doing some research.
And Steve Jobs said, "oh, wow...
Oh, wow,"
like he'd seen something magical.
His checking account.
Good one.
Thank you, bud.
I am in need of last words.
I am soliciting opinions.
Well, you do know you have to die
right after you say them,
or they're otherwise not technically
your last words.
Or I just... I repeat them a lot,
and I hope for the best.
How about, "don't grieve for me.
"My art remains, like a dart
from the speaker to your heart"?
It's Jay-Z.
Fine. I'll keep it for myself.
Mine would be, "hey, I got a big one."
I'm talking about fishing.
I got a big one on the line just before I die.
That would make me happy, anyway.
If I died right now, my last words would be,
"I'm starving."
It means so much to have my whole family here.
Lucky me.
Everyone except our deadbeat son.
Maybe that should be my line...
"Lucky me."
Nope. Too soon.
Adam?
He went upstairs.
I wanted us to speak privately first.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
Did Adam finally flunk out of school?
I tried everything.
Cathy, as you know, in three weeks,
Adam's class becomes seniors.
He won't be joining them.
Oh. He didn't fail. I failed.
Honey, it's not your fault.
Connie, there's got to be something
that we could do about this, right?
Maybe... I don't know... some testing
or some summer school, a little bit of tutoring maybe?
Mr. Jamison, he did all that already.
In fact, he did much more than that.
I don't know when he slept,
but he managed to acquire
a year's worth of high-school credits
online in a few months,
which I reviewed, signed off on,
which is why...
- Oh, shit. - Oh, my God, buddy.
Ladies and gentlemen,
honored guests, proud parents,
it is with the greatest of pleasure and relief
that I present this diploma of completion today
to Adam Jamison.
Congratulations!
- Adam! - Whoo!
Mom, I know how much you wanted to see me graduate.
I'm gonna let you folks celebrate in peace.
I have a truant I need to check on.
If only every home visit were this fun.
Oh, dude, this is awesome!
- Thank you. - I'm so proud of you.
Thanks, dad.
- Congratulations. - Thank you.
What he said, dude, but with real feeling.
Look, I'm sorry I missed breakfast, mom.
I had to get my cap and gown.
Oh...
Oh, sweetie.
That's okay.
Mom, don't cry.
I got to see you graduate.
Lucky me.
Oh, lucky me.
And still too soon.
I'm very happy I was alive
for this breakfast.
- Me too. - Okay.
I am taking one Tolke to the hospital
and the other to the bus station.
Oh, dad.
Thank you for coming. Thank you.
I'm gonna drive down next weekend to see you, okay?
I'll bring some of that medicine with me.
- I got plenty. - Oh.
I would love that.
Please do it sober.
Okay.
Promise.
Take care of yourself, okay?
Mm-hmm.
Next week.
Adam will be with you the whole time in the hospital.
You'll do great.
Unless I die on the table.
Say something fast so those aren't your last words.
Oh... Gloria Steinem's tits.
You freak.
Takes one to know one.
- I love you, Sean. - Back at you.
Andrea, I don't want you doing the dishes.
Ina will be here. And she can help.
Besides, you have to go pack.
Actually, I decided against New York.
What? What do you mean?
Well, I just figured you guys
could use my help around here for the summer.
New York will always be there.
When I told Isaac,
he threw a box of buttons across the floor.
He'll get over it.
Andrea...
You are not giving up that internship.
You go. You go right now.
You tell Mr. Mizrahi you changed your mind.
I want to be here with you.
Andrea...
You...
you told me...
I had to fight for my life.
And that's what you have to do.
I will not let you give up
this opportunity for me.
Mm-mm. You are going places.
So am I.
But they're in different directions.
I will not let you go where I'm going.
But what if you...
You mean what if I die when you're there?
Most likely I will.
Then let me die imagining you
wrapped in the most beautiful sparkly fabric
walking down Broadway with your friends smiling.
That is how I want to think of you.
So...
You go. You find him.
You beg for that internship back.
Okay.
Well, you know what I have to say now, don't you?
Please don't say it.
We'll say it together.
Okay.
Lucky me.
Sean
if you pull a goddamn rolex out of your ass,
I'm getting off this gurney.
Hi, pretty. How you feeling?
Good. Tired.
I made you a pie.
It's strawberry rhubarb made from my own rhubarb.
Stuff grows like weeds out back.
Ina, it's beautiful.
I have something I want to give to you.
I can't take this.
I want you to take a little weekend vacation.
Get away from all this.
You deserve it.
Take your husband to a lake.
Swim, laugh, okay?
Please.
My brother...
my brother is giving someone a kidney right now.
This is the least I can do.
All right, I'll take it,
but only if you have some pie.
Go get two forks.
Okay.
Hmm.
Excuse me. Do you have any peonies?
Yes, we do.
Could I just get a whole bunch of them?
The best ones you have?
Someone's a lucky lady.
Hello?
Oh, Paul, they're beautiful.
I'm sorry, Paul.
She passed about 30 minutes ago.
Probably an aneurysm.
She wasn't in any pain.
Well, now you know the whole story...
The story of my life.
What do you think?
Well, I'm not really supposed to have an opinion.
But in my opinion...
that was a good life.
So, what's next?
Time's up.
You get to go.