This is where I grew up. (Current day: Lighthouse in forest, with a man standing there looking at it. Flashback to shots of him as a child living there by the sea)

As child my father and I would stay up all night during the winter storms to protect the ships from the rocks. Even though it has been years, I can remember it like it was yesterday. (scenes of father and son working in the pounding rain or winter blizzards trying to keep the lighthouse lit).

This is where I grew up. (Current day: Lighthouse again, and as the camera moves around it we notice a chunk missing from the railing at the top.)

It’s funny how sometimes the things in your life that you thought you’d have forever can be the first things to change. (Shot of the father on a ladder working on lighthouse, trying to fix the railing. Mother is on the ground washing laundry while the is playing nearby. Suddenly something breaks where the father is working and a huge chunk of the railing falls hurtling to the ground. The camera zooms in from above on the mother as she looks up in surprise before the camera “hits” her and the screen goes black).

My father hated that lighthouse by the sea. (Boy and father at a small funeral for the mother. Shots of the father neglecting stacks of papers, drinking, looking disheveled. We see the lighthouse sitting dark at night when it should be on, and hear the sound of a nearby ship’s foghorn. Shot of someone coming to their door one day, giving them a notice that says the inlet is going to be closed because the father has stopped taking care of the lighthouse. Through all this the boy is silently watching in the background, looking both scared and unsure what to do; he has lost all joy in his life as he watches his father’s life spiral downwards.

I always wondered if one day I would miss smelling the salty air, miss hearing the pounding surf against the rocks. I knew my father would not. (We see the boy and his father packing thier stuff and moving away from the lighthouse to a new home, as small trees and shrubs have begun to spring up in the newly created valley.

I never asked for things to change. But time did not listen. And time always has its way. (Current day: Shot of the man and lighthouse, him standing there looking at it, while it just sits there, seemingly staring back. Taunting? Beckoning? Apologetic? We see his face as he looks up at it, a mixture of sorrow and tiredness in his expression. Suddenly a boy’s laugh is heard, and we see a young woman and small boy come up behind him. The boy runs up and hugs his leg. The man looks down at the boy, picks him up and hugs him. We see the man’s face and the tears in his eyes, as he looks at the lighthouse one last time).

This is where I grew up. (Man, his wife, and their boy all walk away from the old lighthouse as the camera slowly pulls out. Fade to black.)