Like most of the other Gilmore Girls fans in the world, I am impatiently awaiting the promised revival debuting soon. In preparation for the four new 90-minute “episodes,” I have recently decided to revisit Stars Hollow a little early by going back to the beginning of the iconic series.
I didn’t grow up watching the mother-daughter series. I was seven when the show debuted for the first time and much more interested in cartoons and Disney plotlines. The show was cancelled by the time I had entered my early teens and had already started circulating in reruns on ABC Family. Friends of mine picked it up in the hours right after school and became dedicated fans through that two-hour block of episodes. However, throughout high school, I spent most of my afternoons at the gym with a basketball or volleyball in my hand. By the time I slumped to the couch after practice, the episodes were nearly over, and I couldn’t seem to care much about a plot I didn’t understand.
But by my sophomore year in college, I had been able to sit through a handful of entire episodes without losing interest. I was at the apartment of a friend of mine drinking coffee and gabbing when I noticed that there, on her shelf, sat all seven seasons of the show. I asked to borrow them, explaining that I had never watched the series all the way through. After a few gasps of disbelief and exclamations of “How have you survived this long without seeing this?” and “What kind of life have you been living?” the first season was readily shoved in my arms to take home with me.
(That’s the thing about Gilmore Girls fans–we want everyone to love this show as much as we do.)
By the time I had devoured the first season, that same friend was moving into our house along with the other six seasons she owned.
One day, while watching a second season episode, my mother plopped down on the couch opposite me and watched with growing interest. After watching a few episodes together, Charm [pronounced sh-arm] declared that she was going to have to start the series from the beginning. The witty dialogue and excellent casting had caught us both–hook, line, and sinker.
I suggested we start over together. I wasn’t very far along, and I thought it would be fun to watch it for the first time with her.
It quickly became a habit. Night after night, we’d come home from work or school, grab a snack, pick a seat, and watch an episode or two of our favorite show. When we weren’t watching, we were quoting our favorite lines and reflecting on our personal views of Rory’s best romantic interest. (The correct answer is Jess, although Charm makes a decent argument for Logan.) (Dean is irrelevant in our world.)
When we finally finished the series, we spent a few days mourning our loss then started it over again. And for the last three years, that’s the show we’ve watched. On and off, we’ve revisited our favorite moments with our favorite girls in our favorite Connecticut town.
Moving away from home has been hard. I miss the safety of my home, the lack of bills, my family and friends, my sweet little city, and my mama. I miss my mama a whole lot.
The main reason I picked the habit of Gilmore Girls up once again was because it made me feel close to her. I know the things she laughs at on her couch back home, so I laugh harder during those scenes. I know the characters that frustrate her most, so I roll my eyes at the screen when they enter the frame. I know the parts that, as we say so eloquently in the South, just “clutch” her, so I get misty-eyed every time Lorelai sings the last note of “I Will Always Love You.” Gilmore Girls has established its place in the thread of our relationship as a forever tie that binds.
Whether mom and I are 130 miles or 1,000 miles apart, we can always meet in Stars Hollow in a moment.
Happy Mother’s Day, Charm. I’ll meet you at Luke’s in five.