I hates it.
It feels like the icons of my youth are falling at my feet like brown and crinkly leaves.
We lost Leonard Nimoy in 2015. He died of COPD complications, a disease I have, which made it as frightening as it is sad to contemplate a galaxy without Spock Prime pointing out when we are being too emotional. He was an icon from my childhood: I knew him from Star Trek from age five.
We lost Carrie Fisher aka Princess Leia in 2016, another great icon of my childhood, and science fiction. She was only 60. It startles me that I can say “only 60” almost as much as her death surprised me.
We lost George Michael in 2016 as well. I danced with him through the 80s and 90s. My mind is still dancing to his songs. He was the same age I am. He should not be gone so soon.
There are others, but it is too raw to list them all. Losing the icons of my youth must be a sign I did not die young, after all.
I found another person stealing one of my original articles from my shop site today. I sent them a polite but firm email about it.
This is the part I always wonder if they’re going to tell me something like…. “You should be honored it was worth stealing.” Yeah, right. I’ve heard that. I’m not honored then or if someone thinks my purse is worth stealing either. I’m not honored at all. I’m saddened. I’m especially saddened that so-called spiritual people find stealing normal and justified.