Smiling on my wedding day: Thoughts on THAT episode of Succession

Am I the Connor in "Connor's Wedding"???

Spoiler warning: If you have not yet watched Sunday’s episode of Succession, this post contains ALL THE SPOILERS. These are not light spoilers - they are all of them. Proceed only if that is okay with you. Serious. The first line is a spoiler. Don’t go any further if you don’t want to be spoiled. This is your last chance. Okay. Here we go.

What an excellent misdirect this photo is.

I didn’t get married the same day my mom died, I waited a whole month to do that. 

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Sunday’s episode of Succession, titled “Connor’s Wedding,” is one of the most incredible episodes of television I’ve ever watched. I have always said that nothing will ever beat Breaking Bad’s “Ozymandias,” but this came close (it currently sits above “Ozymandias” on IMDB as the highest rated episode). Watching the Roy siblings process the news of Logan’s death was an unbelievable experience. I don’t know that I will ever fully get over it. Every single person in that episode gave the performances of a lifetime, and even as I write this, I am still flabbergasted by the whole event. 

My son and I watch certain shows “together,” in that we both start it at the same time in our respective homes. This was our reaction to the events as they were unfolding.

Not swearing was not an option during this episode.

I feel like I could write thousands of words about all of the Roy children. Shiv’s “Daddy.” Roman’s inability to say anything real to his father, then the regret, then the reversal of the regret. Kendall’s need to tell Logan that he can’t forgive him. The layers to get through are so thick and perfect.

But the reaction that felt the most weirdly close to mine when my own parent passed away, was the sibling who the episode was named for: Connor Roy. The outcast. The black sheep. The forgotten eldest child of Logan Roy.

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I was driving home from teaching piano lessons on the Thursday before Easter. My phone rang and I pulled over to the side of the road to answer. Not because I was a conscientious driver, but because I had been waiting for this call. My mom had been to see a neurologist after experiencing some difficulty swallowing and some slurring of her speech. I think we all had some idea what the diagnosis would be, but this was the confirmation.

“It’s ALS.” 

I went home, told my husband and my kids, and then drank a mason jar full of some flavored vodka. 

Six months later, I left my husband for another man. Are the two related? I’m not sure. Probably a little bit, but I don’t know if it’s possible to really know about things like that.