As far back as I can remember, it all started with the Growing Pains series finale. I was just a 15 year old boy at the time, experiencing actual growing pains of my own. The Seavers moved out of their house for some forgotten reason, and the last scene saw the family looking back at the empty house through a half open front door and saying goodbye to the home they had known for so long. Tell me you don't know how to finish the chorus "As long as we've got each other...". Maybe it was because I grew up with sisters that had Kirk Cameron plastered all over their bedroom walls, but Growing Pains was my first emotional series finale. Losing the Seavers reminded me all too much of many friends I had growing up that eventually moved away. There is a certain finality and sentimentality attached to all series finales that seems to tear at me. It's weird, I know, but that's just how things are.
Last year I was able to pull through the loss of 24 and LOST knowing that I still had The Office and Friday Night Lights to pick up the pieces and put me back together.
However, tonight I am forced to bid adieu to another dear friend. The lights have gone out in Dillon, Texas. The musical montage introducing the series finale made me lose it entirely. It's more than likely that I invest way too much emotion into fictional plots and unreal story lines, but I have to appreciate writers and actors that can evoke a real sense of sentimentality from their audience. It baffles me because I'm not an extremely emotional person in real life.
Farewell Friday Night Lights. Thanks for the memories.
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