The Wake-Up Call

As some of you may know, I have been grappling with a rogue pancreas since the end of 2023. The pancreas is a bit of a diva, and when it feels like it’s being mistreated, all hell breaks loose.

Four major abdominal surgeries and tens of thousands of dollars in out of pocket expenses later, I’m, a not in the best shape. The body is still strong, but that pancreas has it out for me. And that’s okay. It’s part of me, and I forgive it for behaving the way it has. But, as time goes on, I am becoming more and more aware that a peaceful descent into old age is probably not in the cards for me.

And that’s okay. We all do the best we can with the cards we’re dealt, and I have had a brilliant go at it. I will continue to do so. Life is such a precious, fleeting thing, and I’m going to wring everything I can out of whatever is left of it, whether that’s three or thirty years

Two weeks ago, a younger friend of mine passed peacefully in his sleep. Honestly, that’s a gift. I’ve had a lot of friends die, and this one was the first that hasn’t been something tragic and avoidable. He will be remembered well, and at no point will anyone be torturing themselves wondering whether they could have done something. It was simply his time, and he went peacefully and well loved.

What a fucking gift. I love that for him, and for his family. He’s leaving a whole where he was, just like we all do when we move on, but it’s a life that will be looked back on with joy.

Except there is one little thing that needs to be sorted by his lovely family, and that hit home harder than anything.

He was a collector. A MIGHTY collector. He had a good job, he was single, didn’t have kids, owned his own home, and had no conflicts when it came to dropping a thousand dollars on a limited edition Transformer.

His family buried him yesterday. Today, they’re tackling the house, and his collections. Frankly, they’re buried. His sister send a message- “his desk is just covered in boxed Optimus Prime figures”.

How do you help someone navigate that? That’s just the freaking desk.

I’m looking at my own collection. I’ve already down-graded greatly, but there’s still probably a thousand unpainted minis in that collection, and if I hadn’t had to stop working because of The Diva, there would be more.

As much as I adore this hobby, the thought of my wife texting a friend about how many zombies are sitting on a shelf above my desk right now is heart breaking. No one should have to go through that.

I know from other friends that have passed that collections are largely worthless once the person that collected them is gone. My grandfather’s prized stamp collection was un-wanted by everyone in the family, and we settled on a few hundred bucks just to get the metric ton of stamps out of the way.

Another friend of mine passed a decade or so ago, and his nieces and nephews inherited some cool toys and some graphic novels. Everything else was either donated to schools, and when the patience was worn thin, straight to the landfill.

I don’t want to put my family through that, no matter what time I have left. As weird as this sounds to type, it sounds even weirder to say it aloud- I can’t in good conscience put anyone I love through that. For the first time in 40 some odd years of miniature collecting, I think it’s time to make a clean break.

That doesn’t mean that I’m getting out of the hobby, it just means that I need it to mean something more than it has. I’ve been going through a small mountain of painted (and a larger mountain of unpainted) miniatures, and most of it simply needs to go. I’ve had some success posting some on EBay, which helps the medical bills, and some are just finding new homes with friends.

What stays behind will be more personal to me. Necromunda and Mordheim were always my favorite games, so that’s what stays. Anything that can be adapted to those games, or homebrews of those games, may have a chance at staying.

Everything else? That’s a distraction, a dalliance from a fevered hobby addled brain, a nice distraction from the monsters that are making sure our children inherit a Mad Max movie. It’s all in some stage of going or another.

This is hard! I’m navigating a lot of emotion over some of this stuff, and realizing a lot of that is addiction. That’s fine, I can work through that. Still, it’s way harder than I ever anticipated.

To rip the band-aid off, I started with stuff that I have always found some comfort in, mainly the X-Men and Avengers figs from Marvel Crisis Protocol. Finding new homes for this stuff doesn’t diminish the joy I found in painting them, and maybe their new owners will pick up on some of that joy when they get them.

I’ll be shifting the emphasis of my posts towards this process a little more, and posting the results of what actually stays as well. I have some ideas for kitbash projects that will be a lot of fun, so stick around! It’s going to be a hobby rollercoaster around here!

Take care, friends.

Leigh