What Lost meant to me

I'm not going to claim I'm the world's biggest Lost fan (some of those folks are crazy) and I'm not going to claim that I have any special insight into the show. But I will say that the show has a sort of meaning for me that I'm not sure another TV program ever will match.

When Lost premiered in October of 2004, I had been out of the hospital for about a month. I was living in a cramped apartment with my parents and grandma, stuck in a wheelchair, my hands still wrapped in bandages, mostly helpless to function on my own. My life at that time consisted mostly of trips to the hospital for physical and occupational therapy, with a lot of staring at TV and computer screens in between.

So, like millions of people across America, I sat in my living room, ready to kill a few hours by watching this new show. I had seen the many previews and was intrigued by the premise. I'd always liked the book Lord of the Flies, and this seemed similar.

The pilot did not disappoint. The plane crash featured cinema-quality special effects and the island scenery was breathtaking. But what drew me in that very first night were the characters. I felt a sort of connection with them. Like me, they had been through a trauma and were left confused, scared, clutching at strands of an old life that had unraveled.

It became an appointment for me every week, something to look forward to in an otherwise dreary, boring existence. Jake, Kate, Hurley and the rest became almost like friends (as slightly pathetic as that might sound). I saw every second of every episode that first season.

As the series wore on, I have to admit I fell away from it a bit. There were still great moments, emotional moments like hardly any I'd ever experienced watching TV ("Not Penny's Boat"). But I missed more and more Lost "appointments" as the seasons went on. My life got back on track, and I didn't always have my nights free for TV, especially this year. Also, when the show introduced time travel and alternate dimensions, it became a bit harder to follow.

But when I watched tonight's pitch-perfect series finale (after spending an hour reading episode guides to catch up) it was still a nostalgic experience for me. Unlike 99 percent of TV these days, this was a show that made you think, and made you think about important things. Perseverance, love, betrayal, hope, despair, hate, sacrifice, redemption, human nature, togetherness.

For me, it also made me think about how to move forward after an illness that changed my life forever. At a time when I really needed to do that.