At the risk of sounding insensitive, I usually don't get too interested when celebrities die. Part of the reason, it seems, is that unless it's someone whose work I appreciate and am familiar with, I just don't feel any connection with them, even though it's always sad when someone dies. However, I am really not interested in the celebrity fame game. Plus, for every one of them that dies, how many complete strangers have died in absolute anonymity? Instead, I like to think nice thoughts for all the people who die whom we will never know about.
There are a few exceptions. As you may know, Neil Peart recently died of cancer and I felt pretty sad when I learned the news. Not only was he an essential part of the greatest Canadian band of all time, but he was also a fellow motorcyclist who travelled the world on two wheels.
A few years ago, I read his memoir "Ghost Rider" which is the story of how he healed his broken heart after losing his only teenage daughter in a car accident and then his wife 10 months later, whom he claimed "let herself die of sorrow". The story of his grief and eventual newfound appreciation for life was one of the most touching non-fiction books I have ever read and shaped how I was to deal with my own grief after my mother passed away a few years later.
I'm not sad so much because he passed away, as I had no personal connection to the man, but I am certainly sad to see such a raw, creative powerhouse disappear, because we lost someone who genuinely brought something honest and valuable to the world, and that's a great loss.
In times where all we hear on the news (even for someone who doesn't watch the news like me) is doomsday scenarios, crises and petty politics, it is refreshing to come across someone who loved life so much that he was able to pass down something positive to the world, and for that, I am sad.
RIP Neil.