Sitting in my one bedroom apartment using my bed as both a desk and kitchen table, I have XTC's I'm the Man Who Murdered Love cranked to a barely acceptable volume and am eating pizza I really couldn't afford from the box while my cats judge me from a distance. Probably should have thought twice about the pizza considering I'm just getting over the stomach flu but good decision making skills can kiss my ass. Lorelai Gilmore I am not but that doesn't stop some similarities between my current situation and one in which the fictional character found herself.
We're not alike in very certain ways. She's maybe a size six on a bloated day and brunette and leggy. I have a twenty in front of that six on my best days and am blond and, well, I'm probably leggy seeing as I come in just under six foot but I digress. Lorelai hailed from Connecticut and I am from the corn capital of the USA, Indiana. Lorelai had her daughter, Rory, at sixteen and I'm twenty-three and have yet to even been kissed. Lorelai had a dog named Paul Anka, I have two cats named Bodhi and Kansas.
I suppose my town and Stars Hollow aren't entirely dissimilar. Both are relatively small - both with populations under 10k and full of the neurotic and nosy types though I'm fairly certain that my town has 100% more rednecks than the Hollow ever did and also 100% less Town Troubadors which is just depressing. We could use some more Kirk Gleasons and a few less Taylor Dooses.
Lorelai and I share a profound love for coffee, bad movies, and using condiments on food items for which they were not intended. We're also really good at doing the things we have to do. There's a scene from an episode I can't recall at the moment when Lorelai is going on one of her fabulous rants about doing what she had to do - when she had to find a job to support her and Rory, she did it, and when she had to find a place for them to live, she did it. I, too, am good at doing what I have to. Survival mode is my default position, I think.
My mom died almost two weeks ago. For thirteen months I watched her battle cancer - a rare and nasty cancer that started on her bile duct and ended with a large mass on her liver and more than a dozen tumors on her lungs. I watched her outlive doctor's expectations for months. Even when she entered the hospital for the last time, we still expected her to come home. She was intubated for less than twenty-four hours and the doctors, at the time they put her on the vent, were unsure if she would ever come off it but she practically pulled it out herself the next day when she declared she was done with the stupid thing. My mom kicked cancer's ass for as long and as hard as she could. She was a powerful woman.
(Honestly, the night we took mom to the hospital for the last time... I fought it hard. I didn't want her to go. I was scared. I broke down crying and was mad and didn't want to take her. I was so afraid of what was going to happen and I wasn't ready to accept it.)
They gave her "less than two weeks" on February 6th and on February 16th at 12:35 pm she slipped away from us.
My whole world took a complete 180.
You see, my mom was my "Lorelai Gilmore". She was my best friend on the planet. She was the one who I laughed with and had inside jokes and took 5 am trips to Walmart with for no other reason than because we were bored. And now she's gone.
I'm not alone. Just like Rory wouldn't be alone if Lorelai died. I've still got my Tyler, my Lane Kim, my best friend since I was six. And I've got my Rachel, my Paris Gellar (and I mean that in the best way possible - she challenges me and makes me a better person daily), who may not have been there for every significant moment but she's been there for a lot and she'll be there for all the rest. And I've got my Rachael, who may just be my Jess Mariano. So I've got people. I'm not alone. I've got my Stars Hollow. I have my people. But that doesn't make me any less sad.
I'm good at doing what I have to do. I had to find a place to live so I found one. I had to find a way to make money so I found one (thank god I'm good with kids - it's like my one redeemable skill). But when do I get to start living? I'm twenty-three and I feel like maybe this could be a brand new start. A chance to do things. I've been playing the caretaker for years now and maybe now is the time for taking chances and doing things. So what are the things I'm supposed to be doing? How do I disengage survival mode and start living? Why did Amy Sherman-Palladino not write more on this section of Lorelai's life? And why is life such a damn reality and so unlike fiction where everyone gets a satisfactory ending?
My mom was a badass. My mom was a fighter. I am proud to be her daughter.
I am not a Gilmore Girl. I am a Carter woman. Maybe that's better?
I don't know. The thoughts one is plagued with at 7:44 pm on a Sunday evening when one has nothing better to do than ruminate on one's own life.
-J
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