2026 has been a year… and that’s saying nothing of the wars, climate collapse, and the oligarchy dead set on making us miserable. Life is hard enough without parasocial grief, yet here we are — mourning legends like Catherine O’Hara, Eric Dane, Chuck Norris, Daveigh Chase, Peter Cullen, Kaylee Hottle, Yayoi Kusama, and so many others.
But as any true LATAM kid knows, loss is felt, respected, and celebrated. So here’s a small in memoriam for a few icons who shaped my childhood and (maybe) yours too.
Tim Curry was that cool uncle you wished you had — able to scare you senseless as Pennywise in IT (1990), then comfort you with the chaotic warmth of Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992). His IMDb page reads like a treasure map: FernGully: The Last Rainforest (1992), Barbie and the Three Musketeers (2008), the sole human voice of Perry the Platypus, and of course, the unforgettable Muppet Treasure Island (1996) and Clue (1985).
Beloved by the Broadway community, Curry’s stage legacy is vast. But his crown jewel will forever be The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975). After five decades, his Frank?N?Furter remains a queer cultural cornerstone — a beacon for every 2SLGBTQIA+ kid reconciling their feelings of otherness. His legacy lives on in every midnight screening, every fishnet, every “Don’t dream it, be it.”
Sir, you defeated dinosaurs and cancer — and pneumonia got you? I was crushed. Dr. Alan Grant is arguably the most beloved character in the Jurassic Park franchise, and Neill himself was a class act: kind, grounded, and quietly brilliant.
His filmography is a buffet. Horror? In the Mouth of Madness (1994), Possession (1981), Event Horizon (1997). Drama? The Piano (1993), A Cry in the Dark (1988). Comfort? Wimbledon (2004), Bicentennial Man (1999). Comedy? Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016). Prestige TV? Peaky Blinders (2013-2022).
STAT, Neill marathon. Not a suggestion — a prescription.
TURN AROUND, BRIGHT EYES. Who hasn’t belted out Bonnie Tyler at least once? “It’s a Heartache,” “Holding Out for a Hero,” “Total Eclipse of the Heart” — top?ten karaoke staples, fight me.
When her passing was announced, my mind went straight to Shrek 2 (2004)’s iconic climax, to hours of Just Dance, to Footloose (1984)’s tractor fight. A fierce ally to the queer community, her voice was thunder, catharsis, and camp, and it’ll echo in every dramatic key change attempted in the shower.
The past two years have been brutal for Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003) fans — Michelle Trachtenberg last year, Nicholas Brendon earlier this year, the cancellation of the reboot — and then Anthony Head. It felt like the universe twisting the stake.
Head wasn’t just Giles. He was a powerhouse across stage (Chess (1988)), television (Merlin (2008-2012), Buffy), film (Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)), and music. He was also a gentle soul: an advocate for animal welfare, a supporter of queer rights, someone who genuinely cared. My favourite story is of the trans fan who was stuck with an autograph in his deadname — Head invited him over and re-signed everything with his real name. What a king.
When in doubt, I still hear Giles’ kind, grounding, sound advice. So I’ll leave you my favourite:
“To forgive is an act of compassion, Buffy. It’s not done because people deserve it. It’s done because they need it.”
There aren’t enough words for the shock. I had just seen a post celebrating Kirby’s return to Scream — one of my favourite characters — and then the news hit.
Hayden Panettiere was a constant on my TV: Heroes (2006-2010), Ice Princess (2005), Malcolm in the Middle (2000-2006), I Love You, Beth Cooper (2009), Racing Stripes (2005), Bring It on: All or Nothing (2006). Her voice alone was ever present: A Bug’s Life (1998), Dinosaur (2000), Until Dawn (2024), Kingdom Hearts. She was one of those early talents dealt a cruel hand, yet her comeback was luminous. She had just released a book about her experience as a child actor, addiction, and grieving her younger brother. At 36, she said she was ready to take on the world — and I believed her.
She was someone I’d have paid a ridiculous amount to meet at a con, just to tell her she was a badass.
If you’re revisiting Panettiere’s work, start with Remember the Titans (2000). And if you want to honour her advocacy, watch The Cove (2009). A bi queen, a marine?life defender, a fighter. With “save the cheerleader, save the world” as the ultimate mission, it feels impossible to save the world now that she’s gone — but her legacy remains.
Parasocial grief is real. If you’re feeling the loss, reach out, feel deeply, celebrate the legacy of those who inspired you. I’ve been rewatching Heroes with my mum… Hayden’s actually her favourite.
