Thank You, Alex

In a week’s time, it will have been two years since my grandmother, my mom’s mom, passed away. Private life is private for a reason, but I wanted to share this.

She was the only grandparent I ever had. Both my grandfathers and my dad’s mother all died before I was born. Like millions around the world, we watched Jeopardy! together when I was growing up. I don’t even know if it was a favourite show of mine, but I’ve always loved trivia and competition, and she loved the mental challenge, so it was something we shared together.

She was an important figure in my life. Though she didn’t live close enough where she had a big hand in raising me, she lived close enough that we could venture for Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, and a summer vacation. Those summer vacations entailed a lot of things at different times in my life, but up until high school, they meant two things: playing crib with Gramma and watching Jeopardy! with Gramma.

When I think about the time I spent with my Gramma watching Jeopardy!, I don’t miss it because I want to watch the answers again for the first time. I miss it because I miss waking up with a bowl of cereal to watch cartoons, and what that represents. I miss going to a beach and building sandcastles on a Tuesday afternoon, and what that represents. I miss sitting down with a bowl of candy to watch Jeopardy! with my Gramma, knowing I would be able to do the exact same thing with her the next night.

When the news of Alex Trebek’s passing came across my timeline, my heart sank. Not only for Trebek, his wife and kids, the rest of his family, and the legions of dedicated fans across the world. It is a loss that will hit them the hardest and I grieve for them. Selfishly, the first thing I thought of was myself.

Nostalgia is powerful but it can be misunderstood. Nostalgia isn’t a person, place, or thing. Nostalgia is a state of mind. When we think back to our favourite TV shows, video games, or vacations, it’s not necessarily because we were transfixed with the shows, games, or vacations themselves, but what they represent at that time. They represent relaxation, little responsibility, discovery, and a whole host of other good things and feelings. We don’t long for a time when we can watch Animaniacs through for the first time – we long for a time when we could just wake up, fill a bowl with cereal, and sit down in front of a television for a couple hours and just laugh mindlessly. I don’t know how everyone else’s experience being an adult has gone, but those mornings don’t increase in frequency as you get older.

The reason nostalgia has such a strong pull is not only does it remind us of a time when we were… if not happier, let’s say, less encumbered. Rather, the reason nostalgia has such a strong pull is because we have the ability to revisit it. We will never recreate the feeling of sitting down with a bowl of cereal to watch cartoons first thing in the morning as a seven-year-old, but we can simulate it a bit. Maybe there is a morning where the kids sleep in. Maybe there is a morning where there is work that can be put off. Maybe there is a morning where, for a brief moment, the stars aligned and, for a brief moment, you have the ability to transport yourself back in time. You won’t ever fully realize the intense feeling of joy and satisfaction, but you can buy the simulated bacon bits and lie to yourself a little.  

The passing of Alex Trebek means that pull of nostalgia is gone for me. There have been times over the last couple years where I have sat down to watch Jeopardy! and though it was never the same without my Gramma giving me a playful punch in the leg when I was quicker to question an answer, seeing Alex’s face at least reminded me of that time. I never really got to say goodbye to her, not while she was alive, so being able to see Alex Trebek host Jeopardy! was a way for me to keep a piece of her in my reality. Now, she, and he, are just memories. But, and this is the important part: they’re the best kinds of memories. They’re the ones I never want to forget.

It is a sad day. An icon not only in Canada, but around the world, is gone. The void left behind will never be filled. If anything, like a black hole, it will only expand as we realize that whoever is the next host will never fill Alex’s shoes. That won’t be the host’s fault, not in the least. It is just the void left behind by the black hole following this star’s end.

All I can say is this: thank you, Alex. Your warmth, care, charisma, generosity, and kindness are legacies that will never be taken away. But, to me, you will always represent something I’ll never get back, and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible.

Thank you.