About ten years ago, we unintentionally started a family tradition.
Let me explain.
I was already a fan of the Walking Dead universe, having read the first few collected volumes of Robert Kirkman’s amazing comic book. So obviously, when AMC decided to make it into a live-action television series, I was cautiously optimistic. Luckily, it was even better than I expected. I devoured season one – mostly by myself because my lovely wife just doesn’t care for the genre. It’s a great show, but let’s face it – watching it alone is not the same as sharing the experience with others.
One night, we were having a conversation with our daughter and son-in-law around the dinner table (the place where most of our family’s great conversations happen, not to mention where many of the world’s problems are solved). That’s when I discovered that they too had started watching the show in the off-season, trying to catch up before season 2 started.
I don’t know who initially suggested it, but that evening “Zombie Night” was born.
From that moment on, once a week every week (during the season anyway), the kids would come to the house so that we could eat dinner together, and then the three of us would watch the latest installments of the Walking and Talking Dead that I had saved on our DVR, while my wife watched the baby in the other room.
It’s hard to believe she was just a baby when Zombie Nights started. Once she started talking, she referred to what we were watching as “the scary show”. And it wasn’t long before there were two. Those “babies” are now 8 and 10 years old. They’ve literally grown up over the course of the series. They’ve never known a time before the Walking Dead – even if they’ve never actually watched it themselves. But they’ve always been a big part of Zombie Night.
TWD has had its ups and downs. It’s had big moments, shocking reveals, and slower episodes – and together the three of us have watched them all. We’ve celebrated the group’s victories, lamented their defeats, and mourned their losses as if they were our own. We have cried together, laughed out loud together, yelled at the screen together, pumped our fists in the air together, shielded our eyes together, and even occasionally jumped up out of our seats together. We have waited in breathless anticipation between one season finale and the following season premier, all while trying our best to avoid online discussions, articles, and spoilers; which hasn’t always been easy.
And now the end is not just in sight, it’s so close we can reach out and touch it. And that makes me sad.
I know, to be brokenhearted over the end of a TV show seems strange – maybe even a little goofy. But for me, it’s more than just a show. It’s a symbol of not only survival but of life – of family. The finale won’t just be the end of the series – it will be the end of Zombie Night – the end of our family tradition. Will it carry on with another show? Will we transition to one of the spinoffs or something altogether different? Maybe we can change it to a weekly family game night since the kids are getting old enough to participate.
I don’t know. I just don’t want it to end. So, for the next few weeks, I will wear a necklace of severed ears, brush up on my Abraham impression (WHO’S DEANNA?), sharpen my katana, and buckle up for whatever curveballs and surprises these final few episodes throw at us.
“Everything we've done, we've done together. We got here together, and we're still here. Things have happened, but it's always worked out for us, 'cause it's always been all of us. That's how I know. 'Cause as long as it's all of us, we can do anything.”
— Rick Grimes, The Walking Dead, Season 6: Last Day on Earth