I’m still recovering from the Stranger Things finale.

courtneyzano
Jan 22
4 min read

I dissolved into a puddle of tears when Mike shut his basement door on the Stranger Things finale. This reaction was unexpected considering I had made it through all the dramatic, time-stopping heart-to-hearts that occurred throughout the two-hour episode—even Dustin’s valedictorian speech didn’t quite get me.

Stranger Things is one of those shows that I enjoyed, but wasn’t super swept up in. Generally, I’m not great at getting sucked into shows and have a hard time recalling details about them once I’ve finished them… which is the total opposite of my media-loving boyfriend.

So by the time the new season dropped this past November, I barely remembered any of the plot lines or emotional resonance. I was reminded of things as the episodes went along, but definitely forgot major pieces like why did the government have these sketchy labs and what exactly was the Mind Flayer and why was Max in a coma and—Adam was really disappointed in this one—who was Eddie?

Because so much time had passed between this season and the prior, I had forgotten the emotional ties between a lot of the characters. I didn’t feel as much for them because I felt disconnected from them. But when Mike pulled that basement door closed, as his little sister and her friends gathered around the table with D&D in the same way that he and his friends had done for so many years, it all came pouring back into my heart.

Suddenly it wasn’t just Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, Max, and Eleven… it was every single child that’s stepped from one stage of life into another. It was every single teenager that’s graduated and spent a last day with their high school best friend and didn’t know it was the last. Every child that unknowingly played their favorite game for the last time. Every human that’s been forced into a new season where nothing was quite the same again.

It was sixth grade Courtney, sobbing on her childhood swing set after her elementary school graduation because she just knew, deep down, that nothing would ever be the same again. That she was stepping into a new stage of life that would look nothing like the one that came before, the one that she cherished so fucking deeply.

My family still laughs about this day and jokes about how silly it was for me to be crying out there for hours. How my mom had no idea what to do or say to make it better.

But I can still feel the sheer sadness and grief in that Courtney’s body.

There’s nothing anyone could have said or done to make it make… except maybe pause the passing of time. Because whether I wanted it to or not, time was just going to keep going. I had no choice but to step into it or get left behind.

it was a door closing.

At some point I wandered the school’s brook with my bestie for the last time. At some point I pretended the playground floor was lava for the last time. At some point I said my last “Hello” to my beloved first grade teacher in the hallway.

As the Stranger Things kids lined up their D&D binders, I’m sure they felt in their bones that it could be the last time they played together, at least in the way they’ve known for years. Sometimes we can feel when the chapter is closing. We can feel when things won’t be the same ever again.

Sometimes we can’t.

sometimes you’re just looking back, and you realize that your life has changed, and you barely even knew it.

Both are bittersweet. But it’s the ones where you know it that really stay with me.

There’s a grief that I’ve always associated with growing up. I’m grateful, of course, that I go to, but as Mom always says, I’ve never done well with change. And there’s a lot of change that happens between the ages of 0-21.

As I cried on the couch for ten minutes after the show ended, I was reminded of what my dad said on our episode of Ordinary Lives together: “Slow down. Live in the moments instead of trying to get out of the moment.”

There were so many times in elementary school that I wanted to get out of the moment. So many sucky moments that came with that stage of growing up.

But ultimately, I loved it. I tried so hard to hold on and not let go of that stage of life.

At some point, I gave up and walked through the door to the next stage. And after that, I started fighting change less and less. Because you can’t. You’ll never win.

But that loss stays with me. Sixth grade Courtney stays with me.

And Mike closing his basement door brought her right back to me. That girl who hated change and was so scared of leaving a version of her life that she loved.

I stared at myself in the mirror after the finale, my eyes red and sad. I saw that Courtney looking back at me in the reflection.

I’m still sad, she said to me.

I know, I imagined saying back with a hug.