Not Scotty, Too?

I remember it very clearly -- I must have been only 5 or 6 years old, but I knew immediately what the object was. I remember the fear I felt, but I had the presence of mind to let the whole motel know they were in danger.

"BOMB," I yelled as I pounded on door after door. "BOMB." People came out into the parking lot, many in their pajamas and robes.

"Look," I pleaded with them -- "It's a bomb."

They looked up and started back to their rooms, many laughing at me.

Laughing? We're all about to die.

I just couldn't figure out why the bomb was stuck in the air, hovering overhead.

Dad explained it was a blimp.

What's a blimb? I knew what a bomb was, but I had no idea what a blimp was. It sure looked like a bomb, and a big one at that.

Well, being 50, I now know about blimps. I saw one come in for a landing once. Ropes dropped from the blimp -- mooring lines, I think they were called. Ground crew secured the ropes to posts on the ground, thus securing the blimp.

I feel like I'm a blimp -- I'm not only the size of a blimp, I also have mooring lines.

And I'm losing those mooring lines!

I thought about that when I learned that Scotty died. Well, it wasn't Scotty, it was Jimmy Doohan, the actor who played Scotty. But I didn't know Mr. Doohan. Scotty -- I knew Scotty. Known him for years. Now he's dead.

Snap! A mooring line.

Dad's dead.

Snap! A mooring line gone.

My mom. My two sisters.

Snap, snap, snap! One mooring line after another.

The people in our lives keep us secured against all the winds and turmoils of life. Once gone, they can never be replaced. The loss of any one of these mooring lines, real or imagined, makes all the others so much more important.