我们看《给阿嬷的情书》，到底在哭什么？

《给阿嬷的情书》全球票房已经突破3.5亿美元。

走出电影院的人，很多眼眶泛红。

有人哭得停不下来。有人散场后久久不愿离开座位。

也有人回到家，关上房门，再哭一次。

可是，

我们到底在哭什么？

是在哭木生英年早逝？

是在哭淑柔一生孤独地等待？

还是在哭南枝用十八年的岁月，冒充另一个男人写信给他的妻子？

都是。却又都不是。

我们真正哭的，其实是自己。

那个曾经会认真写一封信的自己。
那个愿意等一个人半年、一年都不放弃的自己。
那个因为一句简单的话，就能感动好几天的自己。
那个相信情义、相信真心、相信爱的自己。

不知道从什么时候开始，

那个自己，悄悄不见了。

我们变得越来越忙。越来越讲效率。

越来越现实。越来越害怕真心付出。

《给阿嬷的情书》不是一部爱情电影。

它更像一面镜子。照见了我们这一代人，

内心最深、却最不愿承认的空缺。

所以，这部电影感动的，从来不是剧情。

而是我们自己的生命。

它提醒我们，我们失去的，不是爱情。

而是那个曾经真诚、善良、有情有义的自己。

这也是《爱的智慧》（Love Intelligence LQ）一直想告诉我们的。

爱的智慧，

不是让我们变成另一个人。

而是帮助我们，找回那个原本就住在心里的自己。

那个懂得关爱、勇气、连接的人。

也许，《给阿嬷的情书》最大的奇迹，

不是让千万人流泪。而是让千万人重新相信：

原来，我们依然可以活得有情有义。

那你是看到那一情节哭？我是看到信的开头“吾妻淑柔” 哭，你呢？欢迎分享

Comments

What an Executive Coach and Business Coach Does

The Secret Under the Mattress: Why would a 79-year Man Bet So Big on 4D?

It was 2007 when we discovered his secret. While moving my father’s mattress, we found them: heaps and heaps of Singapore Pools 4D tickets. They were stacked in layers, a paper trail of lost hopes. What shocked us most wasn’t just the volume, but the stakes. He wasn’t betting a few dollars for fun. He was punting hundreds of dollars per draw—nearly ten times a month. At the time, my siblings and I were furious. Our father was a 79-year-old retiree. We wondered, with a mix of anger and confusion, why a man at his stage of life would need to win such "big money." What was he going to do with the money? We saw it as a reckless habit, a sign of poor judgment in his final years. Some of us would say, "If I were to give him money to buy 4D, why don't I use the money and buy 4D myself? At least I have better discipline". It has taken me two decades, and the experience of raising my own three grown-up children, to finally see the truth that was hidden under that matt...

Head Bleeding when the Chair Falls

The Weight of Silence: What Were We Really Arguing About? My earliest memories are punctuated by the sound of shouting. In 1970, when I was barely 6 years old, I stood as a small witness to the fierce quarrels between my father and my late eldest brother Kah Yang (he passed away in 1971 at the age of 17). As I grew up, these contradictions became the soundtrack of our lives, usually centered around our family's shoe shop and clothing stalls in Chinatown. In the court of family opinion, the verdict was almost always the same: my father was "wrong." He was judged as a man who didn't fulfill his role, who wasn't "burdening" enough for the family’s success. But as I look back from the vantage point of 2026, I have to ask: Was that actually true? Let me finally put to rest what my father did right: the truths that were buried under decades of criticism: Unseen Labor: He worked grueling, long hours. I remember him hauling boxes of goods and equipment to set u...

Business and Money Tips

Search This Blog