I don’t often do this. I actually rather avoid writing or posting about such happenings like the plague, but it has filled my mind all day. So here goes.

In the wake of the unexpected death of Alan Rickman and others this week and the outpouring of sadness, grief, and even reverence to their memories that has resulted, I have come to realize something. Our fandoms have become a spirituality, a faith of sorts. And I don’t mean that in a bad way, necessarily.

Our fandoms, like faith, have brought us near the untouchable. It has taken these untouchable stories, these untouchable characters, and made them as flesh. Flesh and blood and heart and soul, that we can hold close and know and love, without ever having met them or seen them with our own eyes. That faith renders them wholly real to us, not only the characters but also these people who have breathed life into them and into the ideals they represent that feed our souls.

In a society that already idolizes celebrities, I’m not calling for more of the same. However, I am more than willing to recognize and be grateful for the contribution that these people have made to imagination, soul-healing, and heart-hardiness in the face of a difficult, pain-filled, and broken world.

Thank you, all of you. We will not forget the light that you shared with us and have urged us to spread.