i don't
know. it just makes you think,
- just makes you look at yourself differently.
- mmm.
there was this one night in the hospital
when it was very touch-and-go with tony.
- mm-hmm. - he came out
of the coma for a minute
and he said, "who am i?
where am i going?"
at the time i didn't know
what he meant.
but coming here,
i feel the same way.
isn't that odd?
let me get a picture.
oh honey, what?
we worry so much.
sometimes it feels
like that's all we do,
but in the end it just
gets washed away.
all of it just--
just gets washed away.
come here. oh.
i know what
the papers are saying,
but the police think it might've
not have been a gay thing.
marie, honey,
they pick up strangers
in bars and truck stops.
the way they beat him--
oh god, his face.
he didn't even look like
a person anymore.
- you can't let
your mind dwell on--
turn that off!
aunt cel' hasn't called.
not even to talk to the kids.
how could people
be so cruel?
it is a sin
after all, marie.
the church is
very clear on that.
but you're here.
you came.
father always says
hate the sin,
love the sinner.
i wish i was dead.
i mean it,
i wish i was dead!
you know what? i'll make
the funeral arrangements.
you're in no condition.
given the circumstances,
a small private service,
just the immediate family.
he was a good man,
wasn't he, phil?
he was. i loved him
like a brother-in-law.
- but god moves
in strange ways.
our tailor, he's going
blind, 47 years old.
walk in those shoes.
and i gotta think, marie,
vito on some level--
maybe it's better for the kids
not to have that role model.
so...
all the women
in your house are gone.
how do you feel about carmela
taking a trip without you?
do we really have
to fucking talk about this?
of course not.
before we end, is there
anything you'd like to discuss?
okay.
how about the fact
that i hate my son?
i come home and he's
sitting on the computer
in his fucking
underwear.
wasting his time
in some chitchat room,
going back and forth
with some other fucking jerkoff,
giggling like
a little schoolgirl.
i want to fucking smash
his fucking face in.
my son.
what do you think
about that?
anthony, i think
your anger towards a.j.
has been building
for some time.
we have to deal
with this.
all i know is it's a good
thing my father's not alive,
- because he'd find this fucking hilarious.
- find what hilarious?
the kind of...
son i produced.
you mean because anthony
doesn't conform
to your father's idea
of what a man should be?
his, mine or anybody's.
let me tell you--
if carmela let me kick a.j.'s
ass like my father kicked my ass,
- he might have grown up with some balls.
- like you.
yeah, like me.
he might have
also grown up
taking out his anger
at his father's brutality
towards him on others.
he might have grown up
with a desperate need
to dominate and control.
anthony, we've been dancing
around this for years--
how you live.
what is it you want
fr your life?
i couldn't even hit him
if i wanted to,
he's so fucking little. it's
carmela's side of the family,
they're small people.
her father-- you could
knock him over
with a fucking feather.
okay.
but i have to point out
what you resent carmela
doing for a.j.,
protecting him
from his father,
is the very thing
you had often wished
your mother
had done for you.
i love this fois gras.
i can't get enough.
the presentation alone gives
you calories, but who cares?
we should feel guilty?
we walked our asses off.
man, you know
what's strange, ro?
when you go to a place you've
never been before, it's like...
all the people were
imaginary till you got there.
it's like until you saw
them, they never existed,
and you never
existed to them.
i don't know, maybe you're more
a philosophical person than i am.
no no, it just made
me think, that's all.
you know, it's the
same as when you die--
life goes on
without you.
like it does