The Experience of Loss As a Fan

Today was a heavy day. First I saw DALLAS BUYERS CLUB (you may be able to expect an eventual post on that at some point, but no promises), which is not the cheeriest movie in the Oscar race. On my way home, though, I was dealt a devastating blow. I saw, via Jezebel, of all places, that Philip Seymour Hoffman had been found dead in his New York home.

I wanted to take a second, away from my multiple posts about awards shows, to reflect on experiencing loss when you're a fan.

When John Ritter died in 2003, I cried for hours. That was my first experience with a loss that, as is the view of many people, really wasn't something that should affect me. Heath Ledger's death, in 2008, was another blow, and even more devastating than John's. I walked around in a fog for the entire day. I barely heard people. I felt as if the world had shifted. When I heard Richard Griffiths had died last year, I was heartbroken, but nowhere near what I had felt when John and Heath had died. Artists have since died that I greatly admired, but I haven't felt any blow like those I felt with John and Heath - until today. With the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman, the world has again shifted.

A lot of people don't get this. I didn't know them, right? It's normal to be sad, but to be heartbroken? That's weird. I'm not related to them, I'm not a friend, I never even met them, and if they were still alive, I probably still wouldn't have met them. (Unless entirely by chance.) They're celebrities. They have no idea I exist, and wouldn't care if I did. Right?

Wrong. I think that is wrong. Obviously, I wouldn't know if they would care if I existed. That's not the reason I cared so deeply about these people. In a Tweet, Emma Woodman of Hereafter Events (more on this amazing company later in the post) said, "You connected through his art." This just struck me as the absolutely spot-on description of how I feel about these men. (And all the women I love, such as Maggie Smith. I just happen to have lost men lately.) I truly did connect through all of their art. They got to me with their talent. And they all got to me in such significantly different ways.

John Ritter was very much a father figure. I do have a father, who is amazing, there's no sob story there, but he was another figure. I watched him on 8 Simple Rules for ages, and I grew up watching him on reruns of Three's Company. Obviously, he was a father figure in terms of 8 Simple Rules. But he was also a laugh riot on Three's Company. He also seemed like such a nice man - that seems trivial. But it's still something I felt.

Heath Ledger started out as a crush, and as I grew and matured, and as his roles grew and matured, he became someone I admired and I couldn't wait to see where he would go next. (Brokeback Mountain just solidified this for me.) I am the farthest thing from a Batman fan - in terms of not being knowledgeable at all - but he was easily astounding in The Dark Knight. I went through a major evolution with Heath, and hearing of his death rocked me to the core.

Finally, today, with Philip Seymour Hoffman - it was another blow that felt like it shattered everything. I have always loved him - my primary loves were definitely Almost Famous and Capote. That man, to me, could truly do anything he set his mind to. Even in the smallest role, he dominated, and he was so smart. (I'm hating the past tense.) He was a quiet genius, and I don't think he ever got enough recognition for what he brought to the world's table.

What ties these together? I think they were all completely unexpected. It hardly matters what they died of; none of them were deaths that people saw coming. It was upsetting when Richard Harris died; I mourned him. But he had cancer, and he was quite elderly. It was expected, though still sad when it happened. But you had more capacity and more time to prepare yourself. For these men, there was no preparation. One day, I woke up, and I heard the news. It took me years to watch the last episode of 8 Simple Rules that dealt with John's character, and I couldn't stand the continuation of the series. It took me ages to watch 10 Things I Hate About You again, and I used to watch it every few months. Now, it's going to be extremely difficult to see anything with Philip. I just saw a photoset from Catching Fire that I've seen twenty times, but now it's different.

I connected with these people through their art. I feel I have that connection to them, so when it is severed, and I know I won't be seeing any of their new art, it hurts. No, I don't know them. That doesn't mean I can't feel their loss. Why should you only be able to be upset about death when you know people? With that logic, you shouldn't feel bad about people being murdered, because you didn't know them. (See how flawed that is?) Obviously, this isn't quite the same thing, but I refuse to pretend I feel nothing at the loss of these artists just because I didn't know them. I felt that connection, and it hurts, especially when it's such an incredibly shocking loss.

Hereafter Events is a company I've become fascinated with and really supportive of recently. Emma Woodman runs it (I started following her on Twitter without having any idea what her business was about when I was looking for event companies to connect with) and she plans celebrations of life. This is such an important area of the event world; who wants to plan a loved one's celebration? It's hard to get out of your head and think of the celebration aspect, and planning a funeral is incredibly difficult. (Obviously, funeral directors are the people who plan the actual funeral service; but celebrations of life are becoming huger and huger, and so important to overcome the popular perception of a loss as being incredibly depressing and nothing else.) She also runs Death Cafes, and though I haven't made it to one yet, I am so excited to attend in the future. They involve having conversations about death and erasing the perception of complete depression, and they just sound so cool. I've been thinking about working in that world, and can't wait to talk to Emma and her team more, and her reassurance that the fact that I feel this loss so keenly is fine makes me even more excited. Please check her out! Twitter

Anyway. I wanted to get some of that out. It's been running around my head all day. I feel better than I did earlier, but the loss will always be there. And I'm okay with that. I'm a fan, and I can feel loss too.