The Last of Lost

Last night, the season finale of Lost aired. I've been following this show since the beginning. As an avid reader, I am fully aware that all good stories must have an ending, and I am very glad that the creators of Lost got to schedule the ending of their show so they could pace out their ending. That doesn't make me any less reluctant to end a story, though, so it's no surprise that today is somewhat a day of grieving and mourning for me.

I'm not going to debate whether that ending was well-paced, or whether it was the best series finale of all time. There are plenty of other blogs and websites that will go there. For what it's worth, I was not entirely sure how I felt immediately after watching the episode, but having a day to reflect on and process my thoughts, the show definitely won me over, and I feel Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse really pulled off an amazing feat.

I know that the debates will go on for several more weeks, with bloggers and critics debating the strengths and weaknesses of the episode, as well as the series. For me, the loss is more personal.

Lost hit the airwaves a few months after my divorce. I was living with my sister, and continued to do so until early last year. Lost was a joint viewing experience for us. Even after I moved out, we would text or IM during the commercial breaks, asking and answering questions, commiserating or cheering for the scenes we had just seen.

The day after an episode was a glut of online reading and theorizing. I was a fan of spoilers (though I avoided them for the series finale), so I would feed her some spoilers at her request. We would rehash shows and debate what it all meant. The hiatus only slowed this by about half, as we both looked forward to each new season with great anticipation.

So now all of the new shows are over, the story has been told, and barring the few special extras on the upcoming DVD release, we have received all of the answers that we're going to get. Everything else is left up to our imagination. I'm sure people will continue to discuss and debate this, though in ever dwindling numbers.

Like all good stories, I was held captive. I waited for each new installment, and trusted the authors to get through whatever rough patches there were. I knew that I would like the end, because I had so enjoyed everything that led up to it. I am grateful for the story that they gave me.

They also gave me something that I hadn't looked for, something which the end of the show can't take away from me: the experience with my sister, six years of a common interest that kept us talking and speculating and sharing a story that resonated with us both. Thank you, Lost, for telling your tale, and allowing me to add an unexpected chapter to my own story.