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By Sophie Fishman For years, my aunt told my mom and me that the two of us needed to watch the show Gilmore Girls together. But between her long work hours and my need to over-pack my schedule, we never found the time to sit down and watch the show. In June of 2020, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and weekly episodes of Gilmore Girls found their way into our routine as part of our search for a sense of stability. My mom and I created a ritual after her chemotherapy appointments. She would come home from the hospital, exhausted and defeated. She would then lament about a nurse not being able to find her vein or about the cold cap, meant to protect her hair, not fitting tightly enough around her head. After a grilled chicken breast dinner—it was always grilled chicken 22 TUFTS OBSERVER MARCH 14, 2022
breast—we would retreat to my family’s bulky, off-white sofa to hide away for the rest of the night. Each episode of Gilmore Girls we watched was followed by a “one more?” until one of us could no longer keep their eyes open. During our Gilmore Girls nights, I could sense that she was in pain. When she first received her diagnosis, we were told that the cancer was not aggressive, and she would never need any chemo or radiation treatments. After a failed lumpectomy and mastectomy, it became clear that this was not the case. She spent long days in the hospital being poked and prodded; the chemo nauseated her, the cold cap gave her migraines, and her arms were bruised with the remnants of missed needles. But, despite all of this, we never broke our routine. It was sacred.
At times, the show felt repetitive. After four or five sequential episodes, it was easy to feel sick of the quaint and quirky charm of suburban Connecticut. But during the worst of the pandemic, Stars Hollow, the idyllic, suburban setting of the show, felt like a second home. New York City, my hometown, saw some of the highest COVID numbers in the nation—hospitals saw cases and deaths like never before. The sirens of ambulances could be heard at all times of night, and there was even a makeshift COVID treatment center constructed in the middle of Central Park. In the midst of the insanity of the world around us, Stars Hollow was simple, unchanging, and provided the exact sense of stability we were searching for. I was terrified of bringing this disease into my home, as my mom’s
