Why this show? Supernatural and "Absence"
Ever since the announcement of the end of the road for Supernatural, I have been pondering this question--navel gazing, really. Why was this the show I fell so hard for after several years without a fannish love? What spoke to me about this particular story? I mean, I've always been a fangirl at heart, and I've always incorporated the shows, movies, music, or books that I fall for into my life. I've always felt that Stories can carry a vital component in framing and understanding our world. And certainly, SPN shares some ingredients with the stories I have loved over the years. Sam and Dean's brotherhood recalls Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin's prickly comraderie. The series shares a sensibility similar to Harry Potter's increasingly complex mythology. It was inspired by Neil Gaiman's throwing together of disparate cultures into an American stew. There's Buffy's sacrifice. Firefly's found family. LoTR's epic adventure and themes of good vs. evil fighting in the gray areas of the soul.
But for all that, I'm still not sure why this was the story that grabbed me, just as I was finishing up schooling for my professional degree. It was a very busy, but not an especially fraught period of my life, and it was good to tune out with a little Netflix now and then. I wasn't even all that taken with it right away. I watched the Pilot and thought, ok, they have an interesting relationship--almost like true brothers--and I like the gritty photography. I'll watch another. It wasn't until the middle of the season that I really started to invest in the show. "Faith" in particular, was so layered, scary, emotional and beautifully shot, and I was hooked. I dragged my husband along and we started binging, catching up and watching live about halfway through Season 8. Through all of the ups and downs of the story, I have been engrossed in this imperfect, messy, ambitious show whose reach (to paraphrase Bobby paraphrasing Browning) sometimes exceeds its grasp.
But even as I absorbed it into my "life according to stories" worldview, and grew attached to its realistic (while impossibly beautiful) lead characters, even as it gave me a reason to start writing again for the first time since the early 90's, I couldn't say that it paralleled my life in a significant way, or that it came along at a crucial time for me. And while I always appreciated J2M's willingness to give their time and energies to charities and especially Jared's openness about depression and anxiety, I did not feel like they were ever talking to me directly. Except--
My sixteen year old son has depression, and for years he hid it, hid in his room and self-medicated with alcohol. And we knew that something was wrong, but we could not fathom how deep he was, how futile our efforts to help, until everything came to a head last year. He went into a treatment facility for a couple of months. And while things are better now, there are a lot of days where I feel us all standing back on that edge of anxious sobriety about to slip back down the slope we've been trying to climb. Last Thursday was one of the slippery days. He and my husband had a stare down over a comment that my husband had made, and my son left the house, just saying he was going for a walk.
Supernatural was just starting, and my husband sat down with me to watch "Absence". It was almost too much to bear, the irreversible mistake coupled with the brothers' dawning realization, Dean lashing out at Cas, and Jack's desperate attempt to take back what he'd done. It was all too close a parallel to our situation and I watched with a growing hole in the pit of my stomach that the episode itself may or may not have earned. Thankfully we received a reprieve that the Winchesters did not--my son called us, his name flashing on our caller ID across the screen over the top of Mary's funeral. My husband jumped in the car to go pick him up as the screen went to black.
Of course, this is not the end of our story, and we will continue our own messy and imperfect lives long after Supernatural ends. These last couple of seasons, though, as Sam and Dean attempted to deal with Mary's unexpected distance and then parent Jack, have touched me deeply. And Jared's openness can bring me to tears. I even dreamed about having the tattoo one night not long ago--you know the one I mean. I dreamed that I had the sunburst design just above my wrist, but in the center in place of the pentagram I had the initials "AKF" in letters that connected to each other and to the outer ring.
And for the first time in my life I seriously considered getting a tattoo. It would be for my son. And it would be for me. And the way that this show has left its mark.
But for all that, I'm still not sure why this was the story that grabbed me, just as I was finishing up schooling for my professional degree. It was a very busy, but not an especially fraught period of my life, and it was good to tune out with a little Netflix now and then. I wasn't even all that taken with it right away. I watched the Pilot and thought, ok, they have an interesting relationship--almost like true brothers--and I like the gritty photography. I'll watch another. It wasn't until the middle of the season that I really started to invest in the show. "Faith" in particular, was so layered, scary, emotional and beautifully shot, and I was hooked. I dragged my husband along and we started binging, catching up and watching live about halfway through Season 8. Through all of the ups and downs of the story, I have been engrossed in this imperfect, messy, ambitious show whose reach (to paraphrase Bobby paraphrasing Browning) sometimes exceeds its grasp.
But even as I absorbed it into my "life according to stories" worldview, and grew attached to its realistic (while impossibly beautiful) lead characters, even as it gave me a reason to start writing again for the first time since the early 90's, I couldn't say that it paralleled my life in a significant way, or that it came along at a crucial time for me. And while I always appreciated J2M's willingness to give their time and energies to charities and especially Jared's openness about depression and anxiety, I did not feel like they were ever talking to me directly. Except--
My sixteen year old son has depression, and for years he hid it, hid in his room and self-medicated with alcohol. And we knew that something was wrong, but we could not fathom how deep he was, how futile our efforts to help, until everything came to a head last year. He went into a treatment facility for a couple of months. And while things are better now, there are a lot of days where I feel us all standing back on that edge of anxious sobriety about to slip back down the slope we've been trying to climb. Last Thursday was one of the slippery days. He and my husband had a stare down over a comment that my husband had made, and my son left the house, just saying he was going for a walk.
Supernatural was just starting, and my husband sat down with me to watch "Absence". It was almost too much to bear, the irreversible mistake coupled with the brothers' dawning realization, Dean lashing out at Cas, and Jack's desperate attempt to take back what he'd done. It was all too close a parallel to our situation and I watched with a growing hole in the pit of my stomach that the episode itself may or may not have earned. Thankfully we received a reprieve that the Winchesters did not--my son called us, his name flashing on our caller ID across the screen over the top of Mary's funeral. My husband jumped in the car to go pick him up as the screen went to black.
Of course, this is not the end of our story, and we will continue our own messy and imperfect lives long after Supernatural ends. These last couple of seasons, though, as Sam and Dean attempted to deal with Mary's unexpected distance and then parent Jack, have touched me deeply. And Jared's openness can bring me to tears. I even dreamed about having the tattoo one night not long ago--you know the one I mean. I dreamed that I had the sunburst design just above my wrist, but in the center in place of the pentagram I had the initials "AKF" in letters that connected to each other and to the outer ring.
And for the first time in my life I seriously considered getting a tattoo. It would be for my son. And it would be for me. And the way that this show has left its mark.