The End.

I have been saving the last episode of "Six Feet Under" on my TiVo for quite a while. I hadn't watched it because I just didn't want the show to end. Not everyone gets all worked up over TV, and my husband thought the show was the worst possible sort of dreck, but I was really going to miss the Fishers.

I watched the show from the very beginning, and I immediately identified with the character of David. David felt very familiar to me. I felt a deep kinship with David right away. This show moved me. It was not only about death and loss, but about life and moving on. About living life, not just watching it go by. Sure, there were story lines I didn't agree with, but if you get so mad that you're yelling at an electronic box, chances are, the writers have you well and truly hooked.

I could rail at Claire for making stupid choices, and I could feel David's palpable pain and anguish over coming out to his family. I could sense Nate's growing fear that he was becoming the thing he wanted most to never be. I empathized with Ruth's loss of control over her family, of her becoming less and less a part of their lives. I grew more and more horrified as Brenda sought to self-destruct.

I finally watched the last episode tonight, and I must say that I was moved to tears more than once. My husband teases me that I'm a big softie, but I could only sit and let the tears roll down as the final few minutes played out. "SFU" was never one of those shows that catered to the mass audience by having the ending all neatly sewn up for you at the end of an hour. I didn't expect that things would end all rosy, and that the Fishers would ride off into the sunset at the end, but -- wow.

I won't spoil anything for anyone who has not yet watched the final episode, "Everybody's Waiting", but those of you who watched, and were moved, as I was, are free to comment. Those of you who don't wish to see anything that could give information away, avoid the comments on this thread.

For those of you who have come to expect weirdity and occasional loopiness when you come here, forgive me. We will soon return you to the regularly scheduled nonsense.