This one hit very hard.
I grew up in a confusing family that got more confusing when my parents divorced. My mother was actually crazy, cruel and violent. My father was far away .
I had to figure a lot of things out for myself, like all of GenX
My moral code came from primarily 2 places. Mr. Rogers and Star Trek. I watched TOS as a kid on first a black and white and the a color tv in reruns. I was somewhere in between Spock and Kirk in my mind. Spock when I needed to get through something difficult and Kirk when I needed to try and figure out that socializing stuff. I used to take a communicator out to the top of the hill our root cellar was in and beg the Enterprise to take me back, this mission needed to be over.
I watched and rewatched and took the Federation’s code as my own. And then, in college, came The Next Generation. And the adult version of Kirk and Spock. Picard and Data.
Picard had a strong sense of honor, integrity and discipline. Data was on the outside looking in, like I had been all my life. I felt the struggles of one and learned from the other how to have integrity.
Picard was not without his problems and that made him all the better of a role model. Perfection isn’t possible, but become better is.
Sir Patrick’s sonnets got me through lockdown. I waited for each one. Sometimes with tears because I will always miss a bit the English Prof I could have been, but just didn’t have the money (or french and latin skills) to be.
I met him twice. Once when he spoke to a group of English majors. The memory is caught in a veil of years and and the vibration of my heart as I asked him about what started him on his way into Shakespeare and what role challenged him most. Shylock, he said and then recited ‘hath a dog money,’ that speech. I went back that night and read it again and again.
And he came to the Ren Faire I was an ‘actor’ in. He dressed in garb and sat under a tree reading. My eyes grew wide, and he noticed. I don’t know what gesture he made, but I knew stepping out of character for either of us wouldn’t be the thing. So I said “Good Morrow sir, I hope thou art enjoying this fine day at Blackpoint and our harvest faire.” And something about making merry. He tipped his cap and smiled and said words to the effect of spending a while under this tree with asonnet. I curtsied and walked on. Once I’d gone past the chocolate booth, I went backstage and hyperventilated. Two of my most favorite people/things came together in that one moment. I can still see him under the tree.
I could say so much more, but oh this one stung. Thank you sir for all you gave us. Your memory will always be a blessing the world over.
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