I Hide My Chocolate

Losing Friends

I am not a Trekkie, but I watched a lot of Star Trek episodes growing up. In the old days, when there were only four channels and you had to watch what was on when it was on whether you wanted to or not, it seemed like Star Trek was frequently the only tolerable option. So I watched a lot of Star Trek episodes growing up. I wasn’t a big fan. But I did like Spock. He was intelligent, honest, loyal, and funny. Kind of like my husband. Hmmm. I’ll have to give that some thought.

The funny thing about watching all those episodes growing up is that even though I wasn’t a big fan at the time, I am now very nostalgic and appreciative of the campy costumes and plot scenarios. So ridiculous now. So inventive then. Perhaps because I am not a Trekkie (Oh. Wait. Maybe I am!), I have loved the recent movies, non judgmentally and with no expectations. Star Trek Into Darkness was one of my favorite movies of 2013. That was the year my son and I went on weekly movie dates and saw just about everything a 13 year old boy would want to see. Sucked into the movie from the opening inferno scene, we were both a bit shocked when I started sobbing at the scene where the friends press their palms together. The important cameo by Leonard Nimoy was a thrill, for this child of the 70’s. He seems like he was a wise, kind, funny, wonderful human being.

And so, I am sad. Another important person in my life has died. The third in three weeks. They say deaths come in three’s. Well, this is my third. After the death of my mother, life seems precious and fragile and too easily taken for granted.  When someone dies, it hits me hard.

I am not a business person, but I have a career in the media business. (Oh. Wait. Maybe I am a business person!) I would force myself to read business journalism, because I thought I should. For my career, you know. It was dry and boring and I had to read each sentence twice to retain the information. And then I discovered David Carr. Every Monday, he tackled the exact most relevant topic that was top of mind in media and made it compelling. Clean and honest prose, he said what he thought and revealed who he was in his writing. He loved print and embraced digital. The print world lost their champion when he died. Monday mornings with the New York Times are not the same. I am sad.

When I first moved to New York, I had my first job in the media business and had given up my dreams of being a ballerina. I didn’t know anyone, so I found friendship and familiarity in a nearby ballet studio where I took classes with other accomplished but amateur adult ballet dancers. I met Elaine at this time. She was older than me and in love with ballet. She was not a great dancer, but she had a gentle elegance and genuine curiosity and kindness for all the dancers, both the children and the adults. She was a constant touchpoint for me during that difficult year, transitioning to a new job and a new city on my own. She was a friend, though I don’t think I appreciated it then. I met my husband and stopped dancing, too busy with that career in business and raising our children. When my daughter was 7 and it became time to introduce her to ballet, I enrolled her in a different nearby ballet studio. And there was Elaine! We reconnected, though I was too busy busy busy to really resurrect much of a friendship. I returned to ballet again for a few years, but found it too challenging, both physically, emotionally, and logistically, to keep up with ballet. So I let it slip. As I let slip my friendship with Elaine. She passed away 3 weeks ago. You never think you’re never going to see someone again.  I am sad.

I didn’t know Leonard Nimoy nor David Carr.  But I did know Elaine.  Your lives touched mine and you are part of me. I honor you with deep love and appreciation.

Live long and prosper.