From Rory to Lorelai

If I could only watch one TV show for the rest of my life, it would be the Gilmore Girls.

No contest.

I started watching it in the year 2000 when it aired.

I was immediately hooked.

I loved everything about it.

The sarcasm.

The quick banter.

The bestie relationship between mother and daughter, Lorelai and Rory.

I imagined having my own Rory someday.

And as I watched it, I found myself identifying with Rory, the daughter character.

I was young and in my 20’s then.

There were many times when I thought Lorelai was a crotchety old psycho-meanie…at her ripe old age of 32.

But I didn’t get her because, well…I didn’t have a daughter yet.

Between the impetus of me being obsessed with that show and life actually happening, I had my own little Rory.

Out of wedlock, even.

As many times as I’d watched that show, I never fathomed the judgement and outcasting that can come from getting pregnant when you’re not married.

I certainly don’t recommend it.

All the same, that experience is what made me who I am today.

Because it made me stop pretending to be something I wasn’t.

Many seasons then passed without me watching a single episode of that show.

I was busy.

Working.

Raising kids.

Getting married and divorced.

Several years later I discovered that old show on Netflix, and I watched it from beginning to end.

But years later I found something very interesting had happened.

I no longer identified with Rory, the daughter character.

I identified with Lorelai.

The mother.

What a unique and strangely painful paradigm shift.

When I had started watching that show, I was Rory. The sweet and boy-crazy bookworm who loved everyone and didn’t have a care in the world.

But over a decade later, suddenly I’m Lorelai. The cynical, bitch-walled single mother who uses sarcasm like punctuation and reels in every man who looks at her sideways…and then shoots them down.

Life is crazy.

It happens to us…and most often, not in the ways we plan.

When I was Rory, I wanted a ton of kids. A doting husband. A house in the suburbs, possibly a chalet on a lake somewhere, you know…the White Picket Fence scenario.

But once life actually happened, and I became Lorelai, I walled up hard.

And I learned to do everything on my own.

The providing.

The yard work.

The housekeeping.

It wasn’t easy.

And again, I wouldn’t recommend it.

But it is what it is.

And honestly, as hard as it has been, I wouldn’t change a thing.

I have loved every single moment of being Zoe and Zion’s mama.

Zoe is 14 now. Zion is 12.

They will both be freaking teenagers this year.

Oye.

Zoe and I watch the Gilmore Girls together now during our girl’s nights.

Zoe is just as witty and cute as Rory, and sometimes I just stare at her until she catches me, marveling at her amazing intellect, personality and complete beauty.

And I think….wow.

I created that.

Sometimes we will watch several episodes back to back, laughing at Sookie and marveling at Luke’s cuteness.

Complete with takeout because I’m too busy to cook, and comedic relief in the background from our own little Kirk.

I can’t tell you how many times Zoe has looked over at me and said, “Wow, they really ARE us.”

There are many similarities.

My dad has similar health issues to Richard’s.

I have dated a laundry list of ‘almosts’ since things didn’t work out with the kid’s father.

Don’t even get me started on how many times the role of Luke has been recast.

There are some differences.

My mom isn’t a biotch.  (She’s actually a saint.)

We don’t live in a small town. (Hoping to change that this summer, dangit.)

Zoe hasn’t found a Dean or a Jess or thank God, a Logan….yet. (Although I’m sure that time is approaching more quickly than I’d like to admit.)

But above all, I think what is fascinating is the paradigm shift.

How life takes us from daughter to mother and completely changes our perspective.

And all of the sudden we are no longer the self-serving, carefree child, and we become the selfless, providing mother.

Wanna understand how much your own mother loves you?

Have a child.

You will get it the moment that infant is placed in your arms.

I look at myself 17 years ago, when Gilmore Girls first aired, and back then I never could have even fathomed how much my heart would open up.

How patient I would become.

How much my life would change.

Back then if I wanted to do something, I just did it.

Back then if I wanted to blow through $1,000, I just blew it.

Back then if I wanted to take a trip, I just went.

I didn’t think of the money or the sacrifice, or honestly, even how it would affect anyone else.

I just took off.

Now when I want to do something or blow money or jaunt off to Bali…I think of my kids.

And how that time and energy and money would be so much better spent on them.

On their activities and camps.

Their clothes.

The literal tons of food they eat.

Or a vacation to the beach with them instead of free from them.

They are my life.

The air I breathe.

They are my everything.

And as difficult as it has been to raise them on my own, I am so grateful for every last moment.

Because they have made me.

From Rory to Lorelai, in the blink of an eye.

And I have loved every beautiful, tender, heart-wrenching second of it.

So to all of the Lorelais…Happy Mother’s Day.

And to all the Rorys…happy future paradigm shift.

Your time is coming, my loveys.

Soon you will know what is it like to have your heart walking around outside of your body.

 

 

 

 

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  One thought on “From Rory to Lorelai

  1. Linda Pope
    May 15, 2017 at 12:30 am

    Happy MOTHER’S DAY TO YOU TOO .

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