Leonard Nimoy, 1931-2015

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Finding the words on a day like today is not an easy thing to do. The text message found me in the grocery store. It wasn’t a gasping shock after hearing about his health problem earlier in the week, but Leonard Nimoy was one of those few that were supposed to be immortal.

He was an inspiration to me, seeing him on television, growing up, he was a part of my family; not just my Star Trek family. I was born the same year as Star Trek, Star Trek being a couple of months older. I dreamt Trek, I wrote fan letters and fan fiction, I read the fan magazines, collected the trivia, learned Klingon, and through it all was the cast beside me in my living room, sharing the cheese doodles, memorizing lines.

And at the top of that list was Leonard Nimoy. Tall, dark, and handsome. Growing up Jewish, it was nice to have someone of my faith to look up to, that everyone loved. Even some of the Vulcan rituals were reminiscent of theology and customs I was already familiar with.

I watched all the Treks. My favorite movie is one that he directed: Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. I remember him from Mission: Impossible and In Search Of, particularly the search for Noah’s Ark. His singing was…. well, he had a great sense of humor. Through all of his enterprises, whether acting, singing or inspiring, he showed the one thing that we all should value: No matter the outcome, try new things. You can never go wrong if you put yourself out there and do your best, and most important of all, have fun.

In the 90s, my husband (before he was my husband) and our friends went to many conventions. We were lucky enough to see Leonard with William Shatner in Manhattan and with Patrick Stewart in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, one of our road trips and well worth it.

Leonard Nimoy is a greatness in a sea of greatness, and he will be missed.

Live Long and Prosper, my friend.

Obituary

Confession

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Confession is not for payoffs; it is for healing.

– Lewis B. Smedes, Give Us This Day, 2/27/15

My first confession was required as part of my RCIA program. It may have been the first sacrament I made prior to baptism.

I was forty-seven, and had no idea where to begin. Would anything I felt guilty about count? Should I stick to the ten commandments? Most of those weren’t applicable: murder, adultery, stealing.

I yell at my kids and I curse. A lot.

It felt silly.

But in looking deeper, into years and decades of feeling sorrow for deeds, I managed, with the guidance of my priest to find the right balance, to know what should be confessed and what should be ignored, what needed deeper understanding and what remained superficial.

It wasn’t my confession that freed me; it was the absolution and the absolutism of G-d’s forgiveness through my priest’s words and prayers. With his hands on my head, I could feel the weight lifted, literally going away from me.

It was so much more than I expected, and so much more healing than I could have imagined.