Netflix's "Dead To Me:" On Guilt, Grief, Friendship & Love
I first discovered the Netflix show, Dead To Me, when my dear friend, Jessica, recommended it when it aired in 2019. Jessica and I became best friends when we were 14 and she went from home-schooling on her family farm to attending my small public school (she thrived and never looked back!). We acted in plays together, went on family vacations together, tons of sleepovers, visited each other at college and beyond, made crazy recordings, dated brothers once, spent every moment we could together. And for the next few decades, we shared almost daily phone calls as teens, to regular calls and letters as we made it through young-adulthood, to almost daily calls again, as we shared marriage and motherhood. We talked about anything and everything—relationships, society, philosophy, politics, families—and also cooking, cleaning hacks, books, tv. When I recommended the book Pachinko, she read it. When she recommended a recipe for a homemade ice cream cake, I made it. So when she recommended “Dead to Me,” I watched it. I remember her saying it was not like any other show she’d seen.
“Dead to Me” is a show about mistakes and consequences—and how you deal with both. It’s dark and funny. It’s tense and poignant. It’s a lot about guilt, but it’s also about motherhood and daughterhood. And at its core, it’s about friendship and love.
I’m actually a little shocked when I see that this show aired in May 2019 because Jessica was battling Stage 4 cancer at the time. She passed away 4 months later.
Shocked isn’t the right word.
Anyone who has lost a loved one knows that Grief kind of jumps up in your face and screams at you at any random moment it feels like.
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