The power of fiction is that stories are a large part of shape what makes us, us. What it means to be human. I’m going thru a series of story moments, movie, film, or book – that made me think hard and shaped my opinions.
Loyalty has always been one of my keystones as long as I can remember. The selfless love of Sam for Frodo, the loyal friends that leave the shire with him.
The idea of betraying that core relationship- that’s what makes villains, right?
This haunted me when I watched it. The Doctor is clearly upset by her betrayal, but never for one pico-second does he imagine that that would be the end for them. The idea that she thought he was telling her to leave shocks him more than her betrayal.
One of the Doctor’s great strength as a character is brains. He doesn’t win by outfighting, but by outthinking. He’s a benevolent Loki, as long as you don’t cross him.
And this scene pivots from head to heart(s). The Doctor isn’t ending it because he empathizes with her. He understands the pain she is going through. He doesn’t exactly forgive her – among other things forgiveness requires the other person to ask for it on some level, and she doesn’t. Nor does he forget about it. He reminds her starkly that “you let me down.”
This is the Doctor at his most Grandfatherly. (An aspect that is often forgotten.). Having kids, I cannot imagine anything they could do that would make me stop loving them, but that’s always balanced with the need to help them become the people that they can be. To be the ones that change the world if they wish, and most importantly to be the people that will help and care for others.
But for grandparents, you get to leave parts of that to the parents and just be the love and support.
And that’s the family love being shown here. The love that says, “Really? Did you really think there was a limit?”
Love isn’t even the right word. Not in english at least. Love implies romantic when you use it without modifiers. No, the word the Doctor uses is better (of course.). Care.
It made me rethink a lot. Are there times that I’ve had friendships end because of slights? Or family members that hurt me enough that I wanted to cut them out of my life?
Loyalty. Forgiveness. Both things I have heard about and believed in my whole life. But this – the concept of a love – a care – that transcends any slights. It doesn’t demand forgiveness. It accepts that what happened, happened. And then doesn’t have time to dwell on it. There’s more important things to do. There’s other people that need help.
And that is a big chunk of meaning of life, isn’t it? Help who you can, when you can. Care for others. I’d like to think I’ve tried to be like this for my friends. I haven’t, but it’s the aspirational goal. To be the one that cares. And to help.