Have you heard of the Gilmore Girls? Even better, have you seen it? It’s a TV series that feels just like real life. Especially when it seems to be based very closely on the real life you lead, and the really big change you’re about to make in your life.
If there’s one thing I’m proud of from my single parenthood journey (I don’t declare myself as such anymore), it’s this: laying the foundations for my daughter and I to be a team, all the time. It’s a theme for life, guiding us in good and bad situations.
By the time she’d grown old enough to realise that her family was not a conventional one, that foundation was firmly set. It didn’t stop her asking questions, but it did provide an element of security we both needed. As teammates, we divvied up the responsibilities. She’d choose what I should make for dinner, I’d worry about paying the bills. She’d decide what colour curtains we’d have, I’d make sure we could afford them.
As our family stands on the verge of marriage, my daughter and I have been reminiscing about our days as a duo. We’ve laughed over our history, giggled over our nonsensical traditions – including Backwards Day and Marie Biscuit Smores – and solemnly remembered the moments that made us quiet.
It was during these moments, pulled together to make a life, that my dear friend Lauren compared us to the Gilmore Girls. At the time, I rallied against the metaphor, appalled that our life could be allegorised as a TV series.
Fast forward a few years, two more homes and a wedding to plan and, well, we got Netflix. If you also subscribe to the streaming service, you’ll know that every episode of the Gilmore Girls is there, along with the revival mini-series. Laughing at the metaphor, my daughter and I turned episode 1 on during a rainy afternoon.
As it turned out, the metaphor was spot-on, to a surprising and enchanting extent. Even down to storyline elements, where Lorelai and Lorelai interact with Luke – the very name my daughter first claimed my future husband to have (for the record, his name is not Luke, she’d not seen the series then, and this still confuses me).
Within the storyline of Lorelai and Rory, there are moments that crush, and times of celebration. Their life-lines matched up so jarringly well that they felt a little like someone had stolen my journal, gone back in time, created the series and then thrown my diary back under the bed.
But there’s one moment in the prophecy that hasn’t quite been fulfilled yet: the part where Lorelai whisks Rory away in the dead of night, ostensibly on a mini break, but also to escape her first wedding.
I’m planning to do the same, save for the escaping matrimony part. We’ve called it Our Last Hurrah, and have talked about taking a weekend for ourselves, just before the wedding, and holing up for a little holiday.
While change can be terrifying sometimes, it does not mean we should turn away from celebrating it. Ushering in this new phase of our family is important, but to do it properly, we must bid farewell to the past.
Coming to terms with expanding our family team was easy enough, apart from a few expected niggles. Celebrating our past, and sealing it as a chapter in our lives we can always look back on will, I hope, ground this change into a joyful lesson for my daughter.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go searching for a cute little guesthouse with a view.
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