five months later

A few months ago my father passed passed away died. I’m not all better yet, or have even shed enough tears. But he definitely died. He’s not around, and frankly, I’m still at odds about it.

6 Feet Under is being syndicated on Bravo, and privately I have been against this from the start. In fact, I was against the show before the first season was finished on HBO. I did not want to get sucked into another TV show. A TV show that was on premium (re: ridiculously priced) cable. It’s a show about death, life, a dysfunctional family. Stolen body parts, drugs, abuse and their repercussion: Death. Hard-hitting entanglement. Right? Who needs that. Life is already hard.

Yeah, eventually… I watched it. All of it. I binged with On Demand and purged the tears and hoots in a blank room. And it only took three months.

…

A few weeks after my dad died, the show re-premiered on Bravo at 9pm CST. A bunch of us were sagged out in front of the TV, a bit booze-ridden and tired. I don’t know where the channel changer was, but my butt was sort of rooted to the chair.

It’s a green lawn chair with a polar fleece blanket on it (covered in cat hair of course – all the better to show off with my black pants). Still college furniture. I’m married. I’m grown up. But I live like a kid. I’m happy with this on most days. The illusion of immaturity helps balance the bigger things. Actually, I know that’s why we’re all here… the relief of gratuitous wine and gluttonous TV. Community sleepovers to stave off the aloneness.

I remember this episode. It’s the first one… I was watching this in the old apartment. Wine… bald couch… alone… wow that hooked me.

So I kept watching… later… further. It’s a 2 hour premier, without the vulgarity, with commercials. But I’m remembering everything they’re missing. Each tiny edit leaves a gaping hole. I need to walk away. Go to bed. But it’s useless. I’m hooked. Drunk, rooted. Dead to the rest of the world.

So it’s in my face. Nathaniel Fischer dies, a beat after I’ve sucked my breath into my heart with realization. Brenda gives Nate the superficial world, and walks away, indifferent, while I mirror her smirk. First impressions are worth gold. Claire strikes an empty fist of words into the air – blindly flinging her invisibility as I disappear from the room: me and the TV.

I hate to admit when TV is good. but watching that first episode again was like opening an old, weathered book. Peeling back old layers of memory to the vibrant living skin underneath. Shed the callous and see what’s underneath. Are you ready for it? Don’t go too far or you’ll have a raw spot. Only one episode at a time. Face death boldly, but with respect. It becomes a part of life.