So Long, Lucifer, and Thanks for All the Whisky

Parting is such sweet sorrow, Shakespeare wrote. He was talking about romantic love when he did, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind I steal the words to talk about something else I love and that I’m having to say goodbye to.

It seems silly to wax poetic about a TV show. Or at least, it might seem silly to anyone who has never felt changed, by entertainment. But I have. I’ve laughed and cried, made fictional friends, invested in their love lives, in their relationships and decisions. I’ve attended fictional weddings, been present for fictional births and I have felt part of multiple families.

Through fiction I’ve found laughter and understanding. I’ve felt joy and peace. And, perhaps just as importantly, I’ve even found catharsis.

For me, that doesn’t end here. There will be more fiction – and I will continue to feel things. But I would still love to take a moment to celebrate this show that I’ve followed for six seasons, these actors that have put a little bit of their soul into the characters, and these writers that have gifted us with a story that will stay with us.

Thanks for Lucifer. For Tom’s brilliant performance, that imbued this character with every bit of humor, of strength and also of vulnerability. For the idea that when we fall, we don’t have to stay down. When we believe the worst in ourselves, that doesn’t have to become true. There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel – and not just that, there’s always a way for us to make the world better.

Thanks for Chloe. For Lauren’s immense heart and remarkable talent, the kind that made a character that could have been just a love interest into the heart of a show that didn’t bear her name. Thanks for the idea that love, real love, can move mountains, and can change destinies. And thanks for making Chloe a real example of all the ways women can be strong.

Thanks for Dan. For Kevin’s joy and dedication to a character that we didn’t really love at first, but that we ended up not just rooting for, but feeling, deeply. Thanks for the message that we can always be better than our past actions, and it’s never too late to turn the corner, never too late to be the person we want to be – the person the world needs us to be.

Thanks for Linda. For Rachael’s knack for making us feel understood and cared for. Thanks for the message that therapy doesn’t make you less, it makes you more. Thanks for allowing a woman and her words to literally change the world – even if she wasn’t the one to affect that change.

Thanks for Ella. For Aimee’s unbridled optimism and her particular way of making Ella feel both like the audience’s stand-in, and everyone’s best friend. Thanks for letting her be so Latina, and so lost and broken at times. Thanks for letting her fic herself too and allowing her to find love and joy and purpose, because she gives us hope that we might, perhaps, do the same.

Thanks for Maze. For Lesley-Ann’s physical toughness and emotional maturity that made Maze both the most badass person in every room she was on, and the one we most wanted to see get a happy ending. Thanks for the message that, no matter what you think of yourself, no matter what you’ve done in your life, or who your family might be, your worth is not defined by anything other than yourself, and of course, the decisions you might make. 

Thanks for Amenadiel. For D.B. Woodside’s clear focus and incredible sensitivity, the kind that allowed the literal God of this universe to feel like someone we could talk to. Thanks for the message that it’s not just about the work you might end up doing, it’s about how you do that work – and how you can personally help make the world better.

Thanks for Trixie, for Eve, yes, for Rory and the God and Goddesses, even. Thanks for letting us be part of this story. Of their story – our story.

And above all things, thank you for showing us that even if you are the literal devil, there’s always a silver lining. There’s always a way out. You never have to be the thing others say you are, the thing your family thinks you are, or the thing the world expects of you. You only have to be you.

Now, that’s something to be cherished.

Cheers.

Lucifer is available to stream on Netflix.