Since about mid-summer when news broke that a Gilmore Girls Revival was on its way to Netflix, I have been patiently awaiting its debut. When I heard that November 25th was THE DAY, I have been less patiently counting down the days.

As the date drew closer, though, my excitement waned and my trepidation grew. What if it wasn’t as good as I remembered? What if it was a let down? What if I didn’t like it? What if it didn’t live up to the hype?

Soon, the day arrived and I found myself procrastinating watching even one episode like I usually put off cleaning the bathrooms or mopping the kitchen floor. What was my problem?

I had been so excited. I had been diligently re-watching all the episodes. OK, so I watch the old episodes all the time anyway, but don’t let that get in the way of my momentum.

I was ready. I was all caught up. I was prepared like I was going to be tested on it. If fact, if it had been a test I would’ve had a much better GPA but that’s for another day.

I was stoked. And then I wasn’t. Fear started to creep in. Was this going to ruin my love affair with all things Gilmore? Was that possible? Was there a way that Lorelai could not fascinate me with her dress, style and fast-paced, quick-witted banter? Certainly …. Not? Right?

As I continued to put off my viewing of Gilmore Girls, I stayed away from Facebook for fear someone would ruin it for me. I didn’t want spoilers. This was something that I had been hoping and praying for since sending Rory off into the world post-Yale graduation.

I had been hanging onto the lore of Amy Sherman-Palladino promising she knew from Day 1 what the last four words of Gilmore Girls would be and since she didn’t get to wrap up the series finale this was going to be her chance. Our chance.

What were those last four words: More coffee please, Luke?
Believe me I have spent more than my fair share of time considering what these four words could’ve been.

So finally this week I dove in headfirst. The first episode was Winter. It was a little cool and I felt like the characters were having trouble getting warmed up but I was patient. I was willing to give them a chance. Much like Terry McMillan suggests you give any book 50 pages to get its s%^& together. I was willing to give Lorelai, Rory and Emily more than 90 minutes to get their groove back.

And they did. It got better. I felt better. And I started to believe that maybe you can go home again. Maybe you can pick up where you left off. Maybe some reunions don’t disappoint.

But you cannot. Lightning only gets captured once. We’re only enamored on the initial baptism.

I watched. I laughed. I cried. I remembered why I always loved this show and these characters. And then the bottom fell out. I was left more hollow knowing the four words than I had been wondering what they would be.

I was, I am disappointed. Even in the last 20 minutes I was feeling hopeful. I was beginning to be enchanted … again. And then I wasn’t. I really wasn’t.

And even though I was surprised at the ending, in truth, I was not surprised at my disappointment. Not because that is my default position but because we are intended to move forward, grow, and evolve. We are not meant to hold still, go back, or try to re-do.

We are meant to make memories and carry them forward. Not cling onto them until we cut circulation and then try desperately to resuscitate.

Hmm…even now as these words gather together from my keyboard into sentences I realize I am still learning. Those ladies are still teaching. Maybe it wasn’t a loss after all.

Sunshine & Sarcasm,

Lowi & G