A beautiful portrait of Leonard in the “Vincent” years.
One year ago today, when Leonard Nimoy passed away from end-stage COPD, I sat back and reflected on how this wonderful actor affected the lives and joys of so many people around the world, and how he’d be sorely missed. I wrote this remembrance, and noted there that although I was saddened, I didn’t actually weep tears over his passing.
Well, it only took nearly a year, but it finally happened. It didn’t last long, but it felt good to get it out at last. It started a few weeks ago when I was surfing for more material to use here when I came across many posts about Trek‘s upcoming 50th anniversary. I could see that Shatner and others were gearing up for the event, and realizing that Leonard isn’t here for the celebration he so richly deserved just hit me in the heart, and to my surprise, the tears flowed. Damn, I thought this is so unfair! The one person who to me was Star Trek isn’t here to enjoy the celebration. It made me wish so hard that he could have made it through to the anniversary, or at least to his next birthday, but it was too late.
In the end, I know that disease knows no date, nor age, nor celebrity. And a condition as harsh as COPD is so awfully hard to live with, especially in the end. If Mr. Nimoy had survived his (suspected) heart attack and deteriorating health up to the time of the anniversary, he may not have been up to much of a celebration anyway. (Although I’m sure he would have been very happy with it).
I dried my tears and sighed. But I took comfort in knowing his family was with him, and from this; Leonard had actually had made it to the 50th anniversary of the first time he played Spock in 1964, and I’m sure he was proud of that achievement. I had noted that milestone here, and I’m glad I did. Leonard was well aware of the coming Trek anniversary, and I’m sure he would have loved to be part of it. But I also know he was happy with the love and support he received from all over the world as he lived, and weren’t we lucky for his existence?
Rest in Peace, Mr. Nimoy. We’ll never forget you. ❤