★★★⯪☆

Review of the Film Adaptation

Dear Lou,

I wanted to write you this letter, as I know, in time, you’ll have your thoughts on the journey we’ve both lived through. Maybe, someday, you’ll look back at the story of your life as something that has shaped you, like it has shaped me. I’m writing this now, while I’m thinking about all of it, about how much you’ve changed, how much we’ve all changed. Maybe one day, after reading this, you’ll want to reflect on these words again as a reminder of what we were to each other, and how we came to be who we are.

When we first arrived at the farm, I could sense that you had a fierce strength that only someone who had faced the world with the weight of so much loss could possess. I know I couldn’t tell you then, but I could hear everything you and Oz said. That fierceness in you—your loyalty to the family, your unbreakable love for your brother, Oz—was so much bigger than the physical challenges we’ve faced. I could tell that you were not someone who could be bent by life, even if life, even if life tried to break you.

But it wasn’t just your strength that marked your growth. It was your ability to soften over time, to allow yourself the space to heal. In the beginning, it was almost as though you were trying to hold everything together with sheer willpower, afraid that if you let go even for a moment, the weight of everything—even your father’s death, the new life we were starting, the farm, and your relationship with me—would crush you. But as we moved through the years, and as you grew into yourself, I saw a version of you who was no longer just a fierce protector, but also someone capable of love in a way that wasn’t confined to just keeping people alive.

One of the most heart-wrenching yet beautiful elements of your growth was your relationship with Oz. From the moment we set foot on that farm, I could sense that the bond between you two was more than just sibling love, even if I couldn’t open my eyes to see it. It was a lifeline, a belief that no matter what happened, the two of you could always be there for each other. Oz looked up to you in ways I don’t think you fully understood then. But looking back, I can see how he always believed you would make everything better, even before the accident. He believed I would remain alive, even when you didn’t think so yourself. I could sense your doubt at times, but in the end, you believed I would make it through, just as much as Oz did. In his eyes, you were a hero—and though you might not have believed it, he never doubted for a second you’d come out on the other side of every hardship.

Oz’s belief in you, and his unwavering hope for a better future were a reminder of the quiet resilience that ran through all of us. He never let the world’s judgment weigh him down. He kept believing. And in that, I think we both found the strength to push through. He’s grown so much since those early days on the farm, and seeing him become the person he’s becoming—it’s like watching the seeds of your hope bloom into something even more beautiful.

But not everything was easy, was it, Lou? You lost Diamond. The emptiness left in the wake of that loss was impossible to ignore. The loss of Diamond was something you couldn’t have prepared for. It shook the foundations of your world. It was hard for me to hear you crying and not be able to hold you and tell you that everything would be okay. It was the moment when I sensed just how fragile the walls you were building around yourself were. Everyone felt the loss, but you felt it the most. Losing Diamond was one of the things that made everyone realize how much they needed to lean on each other, how much you guys needed to heal together.

Louisa’s wisdom helped us in ways that words could barely capture. She taught us to hold on, to never let go of things that matter most—family, memory, hope. Her quiet strength, the way she carried herself, and the love she showed without expectation it was a guide for all of us. I think of her often, and I know that she’s part of what makes us who we are today. Without her, you and OZ might not have had the foundation you needed to become the people you’ve turned out to be.

I also want to tell you something about Billy. I knew you guys didn’t have the greatest relationship at the start. But you have to understand that he was so ashamed of the way things were at home, so desperate to make everyone think everything was normal, when nothing was. He wanted to be so strong, but there was a vulnerability to him that was so clear to anyone who was looking. He saw the way you carried yourself, your ability to survive, to keep going no matter what, and he held onto that. It was a form of strength he drew from you—without you even realizing it.

Lastly, there’s Cotton—his belief in family was something I’ve come to understand more and more over the years. I used to think he was stubborn, but in reality, he knew that the heart of everything we go through, good or bad, is our connection to each other. The love we have, the family we make, it’s what matters the most. It’s that love that’s always there to catch us when we fall. It’s one of the reasons why I fell in love with the man. And I’m glad you opened up to him.

I hope you can find the chance to read this and love the journey we have gone through since the day of that accident. You have grown so much since that day, and I am proud of what you and Oz have become.

Love always,
Mom