A few weeks ago the series finale of ER aired to much hype and acclaim. While I haven't been a continual viewer for all of its 15 seasons (15 is my lucky number, just an fyi) - I was an avid viewer for many of them. I enjoyed watching all of the media and retrospectives leading up to the big finale - it was fun to check in with long gone characters and old familiar faces. Kudos to George Clooney for going back in the final episodes and lending his face and fame to the show that shot him to true and lasting stardom.
The finale itself was mostly pitch-perfect, save the pain staking unresolved and annoying relationship between Carter and his always grieving wife, Kem. It was all good. New cast members, old cast member - all the stories - good, good, good. Ernest Borgnine played the husband of an ailing wife - whom he had been married to for 60 or 70 years or something like that. In his final scene, as his wife slips away, with hospital staff surrounding him, he looks up after the pronoucement of her death and says, "that's it??" - heartbreaking watching this man's dissatisfaction with the moment his life would be forever changed... Well, I understood that moment profoundly.
The aliens that once resided with me are home with their alien mom and their alien dad is close by, as it should be. The road to such decisions was a rocky one - as grand decisions were made almost daily and minds were changed continually. I was the good guy and the bad guy - depending on who you talked to. There was much yelling, much frustration and many hurtful words. In the course of about a week - it was decided that the aliens should move back to Arizona, after many plans were made to have them here for the next school year. And in about 1 week - we packed up - we had lots of piles and lots of lasts. Last trip to Lagoon, last family dinner, last hugs, last sleep over, last good-byes. I took pictures of all of them and intended to have a weeks worth of blog entries of the lasts, but I couldn't do it. It was hard. It was heartbreaking. I drove them home, helped move them in. The alien mommy did not want her aliens upset with a grand good-bye - so there was none. I stood on a sidewalk and watched them drive away from me - not knowing when I would next see them and knowing my life would be forever different from that point forward. And I stood there thinking - "that's it??"
That was last August. I immediately threw myself into work at a new job that gave me enough work to work around the clock - all weekends and even in my sleep. I have been working and working trying to dig myself out of a mountain of debt. I have been numb - I have been exhausted - I have been absent. I rarely get to talk to those aliens. I haven't seen them since. And, I'm at last trying to deal with it. I have been angry at the rocky road of it - I have been hurt - I have been heartbroken. I changed my hair color. I'm trying to change my house. It was many months coming - but, I'm finally dealing with it. And its not pretty and its not blogworthy - its just a lot and none of it is fun.
But, I'm sitting here reflecting on the finale of ER - and realizing that parts of the old me are returning. I am relating my life to TV - a habit I have long been practicing. The best part of that finale was how the final minutes played out - as emergency vehicles arrived to the familar doors of the ER and everyone prepped and the emergency chaos seemed to forever continue as the familiar synthesized music began and the credits rolled. It ended as it started - and let us know that the halls of that ER were forever changed by those who passed through them and those of us who watched them, yet the ER lives on. And - my own life chaos has started to begin again - yet, I know that my life is forever changed by those who have passed through the halls of my home and those who helped me, who watched me, who listened to me, who supported me, who didn't tell me I was crazy to do such things, when clearly I was. It is the end of an era and I am changed. And finally, after months of hiding, I am moving on.
