For those few of you who haven't heard, Leonard Nimoy died today.
I didn't know the man. Never met him or even saw him outside of a TV screen. Have no idea what his passions were or if he spent his days just getting by like most of us. But I love him.
I love him because he played a part in a TV show that my father and I bonded over. Because of him, my father lives on in that show. I love him because he kept playing that part long past the time when the next generation knew who he was. But they came to know and love him too. I love his photography. It helped me see people at their best when in their worst. I love him because he embodied all the things that I hoped for the future.
And now he's gone.
So what does that mean? Does that mean that I stop watching the things I loved him in most or that I turn my face from the images he brought into the world? Do I despair for the World as I know it?
I don't think so. I think it means that I have a responsibility to carry on where he left off. I must bring beauty into the World. I must play the part of the hero even if all I am doing is playing the part. I must be the person I believed he was, and share that with everyone I meet, so that person never dies.
Today, I will cry for my loss, and for his family. Tomorrow, I will carry on. It is only logical.