Sunday, June 19, 2016

Sum of the parts

It's always a sad thing when celebrities of any sort pass away.  We, as the spectators, may not have known them or have even met them, but we feel the loss.

Anton Yelchin passed away early this morning.  He was in Fright Night 2 and played Chekov in the newest Star Trek movies.  I enjoyed watching him on the screen.  I thought he did a great turn as Chekov.  And as someone who watched the originals, that's saying something.

It's easy to say that we "love" this celebrity or that.  I love that actor.  I love that writer.  I love that artist.  And some people don't take that in the way its meant.
I don't say that I "love" anyone of this ilk because I have an expectation of time, money, or anything else from said object of love.  I use the word "love" because something that this person has done has touched me.  It's really quite simple.

I bawled like a baby when Jim Henson passed away.  I remember watching the Muppets do a tribute to him and just sitting there with tears rolling down my face.  He's what my childhood is made from.  I love the Muppets.  I love Sesame Street.  It's so woven into my earlier years that I felt that keen sting of loss deeper than I might with someone else.

When Prince passed, I felt melancholy.  All those high school days came back with a flash.  Times in college when I blasted his music.  Buying a 45 at the local Walmart because I HAD to have that song.  The scandal when "Darling Nikki" came out.
But when Alan Rickman died, I went into a minor tailspin.  Everything that I ever watched him in was simply amazing.  Not to mention that the Harry Potter movies were the kids' and my thing to do together.  We always made time to go together and watch them all.
I loved him in "Die Hard", Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves" (only he could make me laugh as he's trying to force himself upon Maid Marion), and, of course, his turn as Severus Snape.  It took me nearly a week to snap out of it.  He is woven into several pieces of my life.

So while we may not have broken bread with these famous people, we often feel the loss deeply because they're a part of our life in ways that we can't even fathom sometimes.  We're not missing a son, daughter, brother, or sister.  But we're missing the gift of the person's presence.  We're missing the energy and love they brought to bring things to life for us.  Whether it's a movie, book, or art, we are touched by these gifts.  We mourn their loss.  We mourn the emptiness of the space they left behind.
Because we loved them, too.

1 comment:

Mark R Hunter said...

It was the same reaction I had when Robin Williams died. But this year, I think, is going to go down as the year of the celebrity deaths.