This past summer, I spent a lot of time watching television. Between binge-watching Off Campus and Heated Rivalry (finally), revisiting episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine with my mom and Sex and the City on my own, starting Abbott Elementary with my boyfriend and Malcolm in the Middle, watching the occasional Bob’s Burgers episode, and recently finishing The Middle, I realized many of the stories I gravitated toward had one thing in common: family. Whether rooted in the idea of found family or built on the foundation of blood-related family, these shows all explored the relationships that shape us. Out of all of the shows and hours spent watching, The Middle is one that stuck with me the most.
Running from 2009 to 2018 and spanning over 200 episodes, The Middle follows the Heck family, a middle-class family of five navigating everyday life in small-town Indiana. Mike, the quiet and stern quarry manager, and Frankie, the overworked and slightly frazzled mother, juggle the realities of parenting, finances, and the feeling that nothing ever seems to go quite right. Their children, Axl, the mischievous eldest son; Sue, the relentlessly optimistic middle child; and Brick, the quirky, oddball, book-loving youngest sibling, each bring their own unique personalities to the family’s constant chaos. They argue, bicker, and drive each other crazy, but nearly every episode ends with the same reminder that beneath all of the dysfunction is an unwavering love for one another. That enduring love is what I admired most about the show.
Because of that, the series finale hit me much harder than I expected. When The Middle came to a close, I cried, not because I don’t have a family who loves me unconditionally like the Hecks, because I absolutely do, but because the ending struck a personal chord with me. I have always been incredibly close with my family, and lately I’ve become increasingly aware that everyone is growing up… including my parents.
The finale centers on Axl accepting a job in Colorado and leaving Indiana, forcing the family to confront the reality that life is changing. Frankie struggles to accept that their family will never all live under the same roof again. Through an extended metaphor about cellphone plans and shared cell phone minutes, she says:
“I’m not cool. I am not okay with this. You know, Indiana Mobile has a family plan for a reason. Because families are tied together, no matter what. We can’t all be off using our minutes willy-nilly by ourselves. The minutes are all connected! They are intertwined! Cause that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Indiana Mobile gets it… And you have to appreciate the minutes before they run out. Because this is it. It’s really it. It’s over. The five of us are never gonna be together like this again… It’s the end of an era. And it’s never going to be the same again.”
As Frankie cries, Mike quietly responds, “That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
That exchange broke me because I understood both of them at once. Like Frankie, I want to cling to the version of family that felt permanent, like dinners together, everyone living under the same roof, and the comfort of knowing home would always look the same. But like Mike, I knew she couldn’t hold onto it forever. Families are supposed to evolve. Children are supposed to grow up, leave home, and build lives of their own. Time is fickle and finite, and that’s exactly why the moments we as a family share matter so much.
I graduate this year, marking my official entrance into the real world… a world where I won’t always have the everyday safety net of my parents. I’ll have a job, bills, responsibilities, and eventually a place of my own. My life is changing, and so is theirs. Watching The Middle reminded me that growing up doesn’t have to mean leaving family behind; it simply means our relationships begin to look different. The people who have always been my home will continue to be part of my life, even if we are no longer together every day.
Family, no matter how it is defined, is tied together. It stretches across distance, time, and change. It is bound by love and care for one another. Frankie was right that we should appreciate the minutes before they run out, but Mike was right too in that change is inevitable. The end of one chapter doesn’t mean the end of a family. It simply marks the beginning of a new one. So, if you are anything like me, and you’re terrified of growing up, changing, and leaving home, watch The Middle. It will remind you what truly matters: family is forever, and family is tied together.
