I finished 5 seasons of CSI Miami on Saturday. Unfortunately, that was all that was available for the series on Hulu…something I did not realize/do the math on when I first started watching a few weeks back. Made the connection a few episodes in, but figured “only half the series” being on Hulu was a bridge I’d cross when I had to.

Had to Saturday night.

I’d been planning on signing back up for Paramount Plus for Mom for awhile (but then she found other stuff so I put it off indefinitely). But this was the time.

I was barely thinking of Star Trek, but saw Picard listed, and was reminded that I really DID want to watch the 3rd season of that show (word of mouth being that while the first 2 seasons may not have been wonderful, the 3rd one was GOOD).

I blitzed through Picard season 3 in basically 3 days…partly because I put off the final episode to watch in an evening when I could be sure I would not have to split the viewing between breakfast/lunch/after-work.

Very much enjoyed the season, especially once I saw that something that raised a red flag almost immediately dealt with satisfactorily.

But it also stirred up a lotta feelings.

And memories.

Seeing the characters so aged was new. I can’t say I didn’t EXPECT it…but it was NEW. I don’t know how “old” I had thought the characters were when I was exposed to the property as a kid…I just knew THEY were “adults” and at 13/14 at the time, I was NOT.

I realized yesterday that I’m about as old now as Jonathan Frakes was when Star Trek Generations was out…what I consider my official “start” with Star Trek.

So maybe I’ve a “few” years YET to reach Patrick Stewart’s age then, but Riker?

I’m there.

And once again, I am not, and do not feel like, I have life remotely as “together” as I should FOR such an age.

Doesn’t even feel like I’m captain of my own life, let alone some vessel with hundreds of others under my responsibility.

But ok…c’est la vie on that aspect.

Seeing stuff with multiple direct generations of characters present; the wrestling with legacy and what one leaves behind; with the nature of family–blood and loyalty and all that–stirred plenty.

It was Dad who took me to my first Star Trek movie in the theater.

Star Trek: Generations. December 1994…possibly as late as January 1995.

But I recall going INTO the film knowing the full name/designation “Captain James. T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise.” The things one picks up–even as a kid–just from pop culture surroundings.

We were late to the movie, though…missing the main prologue. So the first time seeing it, I did not get the backstory of Kirk & co. seeing the Enterprise B off on its maiden voyage and what happened there.

I remember also reading the book–the novelization of the film–from the library at least once, maybe twice. Second time may have been after reading the William Shatner series begun with Ashes of Eden, to catch myself back up on Kirk’s death.

While it turned out that I had actually been exposed to “Star Trek” via “Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home” that Mom had been watching on tv once, it was definitely Generations in the theater with Dad that I became a fan of Star Trek.

And at the time, when episodes were hard to come by “at will,” I relied heavily on novels…and a biiiiig part of my Star Trek (The Next Generation) experience came by way of novels and novelizations of episodes and even a comic adaptation or two. Surely a handful of episodes on video–presumably the pilot, and The Best of Both Worlds (1 & 2), and I recall the series finale. But otherwise, it was the books.

But it was enough for me to come to care about the characters and setting, to know enough about them for them to have meaning to me. And though Dad wasn’t specifically a Star Trek fan or such, he’s still the one that took me to that theater and really sparked me into it all.

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As I write, it’s been two months since losing Chloe. This morning was, that is.

And I think that’s been playing a fair bit into my mind and feelings lately and today in particular.

She’s still this “clinical” loss for me–something I see and know and have and note and “feel” in a factual sense…but haven’t yet allowed myself to truly FEEL. Like after Dad, I wasn’t ready and just RAN.

I’ve had very few periods of “just” silence in these last two months. I virtually always have music going, or some tv show, or youtube videos, or a movie, or an audiobook. Or I’m with someone, or working. Filling the time. NOT sitting back and letting the reality sink in.

The other day I caught myself drifting and apparently paused the show I was watching, and wound up sleeping a couple hours…it was just about the only time I can think of that I simply slept without having something playing to drift off TO.

Sarahcat doesn’t snuggle…she likes attention, comes to me frequently to see what I’m up to, to rub her head against my hand, to nibble on my knuckles, etc…beg for treats…and she purrs. She “purrs up a storm,” and even sneaks up on me when I’m petting the puppy and it’s like I hear a puppy purring.

Daisey kinda snuggles, but not the way Chloe did. And she does NOT actually purr. And she’s always insisting on licking me and shifting around to get a belly rub or to see what else is going on. She’s bigger, and heavier…especially with the weight Chloe lost.

Chloe’s snuggling is just one of the things I miss about her. But it was–as I’ve realized all the more the past almost-9-weeks–such a huge thing for me.

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And then here we are tonight. October 18th. 12 days til what would have been Dad’s 73rd birthday. 12 days from 22 months. It’s Wednesday-into-Thursday…putting us at 94 weeks since losing Dad.

Lost Chloe August 18th…putting us at 2 months. (Last Friday was 8 weeks, and in a couple days it’ll be 9 weeks, that way).

This convergence of 94 weeks and 2 months brings Dad and Chloe back together in this; and that definitely makes up its own feeling, and all that.