I didn’t watch much TV as a child, but I remember the loyal Lassie and Flipper, the dolphin who could solve nearly anything with a flick of its tail. In those shows, problems wrapped up neatly in thirty minutes. Goodness prevailed.

As a teen, my TV watching increased, and I became obsessed with That Girl, starring Marlo Thomas. She had her own apartment and a sophisticated career, making adulthood look glamorous and exciting.

Then came the Beatles.

I can still see our family gathered around the television to watch them on The Ed Sullivan Show. The adults had been talking about their scandalously long hair for days. I didn’t fully understand what was happening, but I sensed something big. 

If that moment signaled the start of a cultural shift, the next season felt far more personal. 

My sister — newly licensed and gloriously independent — drove us to the movie theater to see The Way We Were. I remember dressing up and fixing my hair, as if my own Robert Redford might be in the seat next to me. Watching love unfold on the big screen made me wonder when my own story would begin.

It did. Not with perfect character arcs and problems resolved in 30 minutes, but with small, sometimes faltering steps into adulthood.

The season of business arrived in full force.

Marriage. Career. Family. School events and watching our children participate in football, hockey, horse shows, basketball, and other events. Supper in the crockpot. Overflowing laundry baskets. There were evenings when the only television my husband and I managed was a half-hour of Cheers or an episode of Dallas after the house finally went quiet. I wasn’t studying character arcs, as I enjoy doing now. I was just grateful to sit down and relax.

Now, in this season of retirement, things have shifted again.

Frank and I enjoyed the series Ted Lasso, which surprised me. What looked like a show about a soccer coach became a gentle meditation on kindness, second chances, and believing in people even when they don’t believe in themselves.

We never had a chance to watch Frasier when it first aired, but once we did, we appreciated the sharp writing and colorful characters.

We also became hooked on Doc Martin, set along the Cornish cliffs, and the PBS adaptation of All Creatures Great and Small, with its rolling green hills, stone cottages, and Yorkshire setting. The landscapes are soothing, but it’s the quirky characters like Doc Martin and beloved animals like Trixie, the pampered Pekingese, that kept us coming back.

Our latest indulgence is the series Victoria, which follows the young queen who ascended to the throne in 1837 and reigned until 1901. What begins as the story of an uncertain eighteen-year-old girl quickly becomes something far more complicated. The court is filled with shifting alliances, political maneuvering, jealousies, and secrets. Her marriage to Prince Albert, someone as strong-willed as she was, creates tension and moments when we realize how heavily the crown rests on both their heads.

Looking back, I can see that every stage of life had its series. The shows I loved as a child were about heroes rescuing others. Later, they were about romance and possibility. When I was building a family, I craved quick laughter and adult company. Now, I’m drawn to stories about exotic settings, growth, and challenges. 

It occurs to me that our choice of what we watch often reflects where we’re at in life. Our interests, challenges, and our hopes for the future. I wonder what the next favorite series will be — and what it might say about the seasons still ahead.