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With Supernatural it has always been different to me. Of course, I would be lying if I claimed that the handsome appearance of its leads did not appeal to me. It goes without saying that they do. Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles are two of the most handsome men I've ever seen on screen. But other shows have attractive leading men, too. So, this can't be the main reason to it, at least not for me.
When I got acquainted with Supernatural, back on that crucial night they showed the Pilot, I was going through a time that dug my mourning for my father up like from his grave. He had been dead a short while, but, looking back, I had not really mourned him, I think. There had been so much to do, my mother to take care of who was falling apart after his passing (though she never really showed it on the outside), and we were still trying to find some relatives who had died in the Balkan war (but never did).
I was in a strange state of mind. Trying to get a grip but also being open to emotions in a manner I had not expected. I missed my dad. Terribly. I think I still do, as we were so much alike. But - you get used to missing someone, and it gets easier with time, that's true. Yet, there are moments you can not fight it the way you normally do. That's when the pain returns and throws you into a pit of memories that sometimes love to claw at you like demons at night.
These two guys were in search for their father, embedded in a haunting and thrilling story of ghosts, demons, monsters and most of all inner conflicts so incredibly played out by the actors that I could have sworn they had already lived what they were going through on screen.
I was captivated by the story, but also because of what I saw there reflected in part my own emotional state. I was myself searching for my dad within my soul to make sure I would always feel his presence there and thereby not be entirely bereft of his kind and sweet nature. You should have seen him when children were around. He would joke and play and never grow weary of turning into a goof ball par excellence.
And I remembered one moment I had almost forgot - one day, as were had been travelling to visit my grandmother (his mother) and stopped on the road at a small sort-of diner where they sold roast lamb, fresh from the spit. We loved that, and my dad ordered huge amounts of lamb (he ate like a race horse, actually, I never knew where he put all that, as he was always lean, but he would eat enormous portions). This is one of my fondest memories of his: sitting there in the afternoon sun, his fingers all greasy from the lamb and the happiest of smiles in his eyes.
Strangely enough (I really have no idea, why) that picture emerged from my subconscious the moment Sam bit into that cookie Jessica had left for him, shortly before he saw her on the ceiling.
Also, Supernatural reminded me of the issues I had with my mother. We loved each other dearly, but were also able to fight like wild animals, making no prisoners sometimes. The relationship Sam had with his father often reminded me of the one my mom and I had. And watching the first season I changed my way of looking at her once more and tried to understand her better. I decided we had to resolve all the issues that had built up over the years, some I had a part in it, some were entirely hers, but I wanted us to start anew.