Sunny days may chase the clouds away, but in my life experience, sunny days have often been the clandestine omens of devastating news. September 11, 2001 was a beautiful, warm day in New York City, and the sky was in danger of being taken over by bilious, cottony clouds. There was absolutely no warning that would have prepared anyone for how radically our lives would all change. Yesterday, where I reside at least, was a beautiful, sunny day. Not too hot and slightly breezy. Yet for whatever reason, yesterday seemed off to me. If pressed, I can't explain why. It was like walking onto a movie set where all the elements are in place, yet a soulful element is missing. The reason for the vacuous element was answered once I returned home midday.
It was actually nOva who told me the news first. Ever since that point I have been suspended in a state of anesthesia. A feeling of absolute numbness punctuated by brain-crushing attempts to not break down and cry in public. As the day turned to night, and the outpouring of shock and sadness gripped everyone's consciousness, my attempts became absolutely futile. Have you ever cried so hard and so much that there came a point when you had to pause and revisit exactly why it was you were so upset? Then broke down and cried more again? Welcome to the day that Michael Jackson, The King of Pop, died.
As far as I was concerned, yesterday should have been a day fraught with hurricanes, earthquakes, and simultaneous volcanic eruptions. Attempting to handle the death of the man who provided the soundtrack to all of my childhood memories was hard. The balmy sunny day of September 11, 2001 meant an end to my days of only being concerned with my immediate surroundings and not the world at large. Yesterday's picture perfect weather and Michael's death meant an end to my childhood as I knew it. Despite my 33 years on this Earth, I still had not gone through the one event that resulted in an emotionally-searing blow to my psyche that caused me to unexpectedly reflect so deeply on my world and my place in it.
All my life, and likely yours, I have never lived a day where Michael did not exist to have some sort of impact on my life. Yesterday, no lie, I was watching old clips from
The Jackson 5 Variety Show and giggling on the rapport between him and a young
Janet. "Rock With You" always reminds me of the days my Mom and I would ride around, giggling and laughing while
Off The Wall's 8-track played in her car. Right before I broke my leg at eight-years-old, I had just listened to
Thriller in its entirety. As a baby, often the only way to console me was to place my body in front of the television when
The Jackson 5ive cartoon was on. Listening to a young, preternaturally gifted Michael has always made me cry, as though his brilliance was something the Creator needed for us to witness and greedily consume as proof of greatness and raw, unadulterated talent.
Despite his larger-than-life theatrics, predilection for the histrionic, and often questionable choices, Michael was always given a pass. And quite simply it's because we are a forgiving lot when it comes to someone who provided so much for us, and simply asked that we try to get together and get ourselves together just long enough to have momentary peace in this world. Unsurprisingly enough, in these catastrophic times of financial ruin and political turmoil, it is this man's death that gave us all pause to come together long enough to focus on this man's life in order to collectively give praise where it's due.
I always imagined that I would get a chance to play songs for my child the same way my mother played those same tracks for me. I would get to watch his eyes light up with wonder as I explained how young Michael was, the hardships his family overcame to live a dream many had unflinchingly doubted would ever come to fruition. I imagined that I would be much older when Michael's health would deteriorate, able to come to grips that the most talented man who ever lived would soon meet his Maker. Now what we have left are memories. Memories we all had expected we'd have many more years to wade through with Michael still present among us. The simple truth may be that Michael's death is a reminder that we don't always get what we want. A reminder that taking anyone for granted is about as futile as preventing yourself from crying when you heard the news. As futile as being unprepared for catastrophe on a sunny, cloudless day.
Eulogizing this man could go on forever. To keep speaking of his greatness without admitting his absence is a type of denial in itself. But he is gone.
Michael, we no longer have you, but we will always have your music. In short, Michael, we love you. If no one ever told you so with utmost sincerity, thank you so very much. For everything. You have no idea what you still mean to us. So let's just never say goodbye. Let's just play the next song.
Comments
I will miss you always MIchael, but I can't help but smile because I know you are at peace FINALLY. God bless you brother. I love you.
kid ghana | August 1, 2009 3:33 PM | PermalinkI am heartbroken yet I am glad that he can finally know the peace he sought during his short life. @ Mutada - you are right, we will see him again. WE LOVE YOU MICHAEL!
webmuse | July 1, 2009 11:37 PM | Permalinkgood words thanks sis, I needed that.
KissMyBlackAds | June 27, 2009 3:15 PM | PermalinkThat's was so beautifully, amazingly written. Even as I sit here and read all of this, look at pictures and discuss it with people, somehow it still isn't real to me. As much as I love music I've never been big on celebrity, so usually when an entertainer dies, of course I'm sad they're gone but it never hits home. I think the only one who came even remotely close in my lifetime was when Luther passed. But MJ??? Wow, it's unbelievable to me still. I third Soulirific in that he used each and every gift God gave him, something I know I personally take for granted. I don't care how long this earth keeps spinning, I believe there will never ever be another like him. This is just bananas..
miss concrete jungle | June 26, 2009 2:18 PM | PermalinkBeautifully written, made me tear up. Ditto to everything you said, again wonderfully done.-QH
QH | June 26, 2009 12:35 PM | PermalinkI can't get "Never Can Say Goodbye" out of my head. It just keeps playing over and over.
@Soulrific: I was just thinking the same thing about Michael this morning. Michael used every bit of the gifts God gave him. All of them. He didn't let them go to waste. He didn't sit on them. He gave it his all.
We could learn a lot from him about not wasting what God has given us.
"Never can say goodbye, no, no, no, no, I...."
chynadoll | June 26, 2009 12:13 PM | PermalinkThank you.
j | June 26, 2009 12:07 PM | PermalinkI'll see him in the resurrection, so no worries. Second favorite singer of all time behind Steveland. Made such an impact on my life, loved all of his music, never believed the lies, never judged him on his looks, he gave so much time and money to others, helped so many people, loved by billions, extremely talented, hard working, relentless, loved god, love this man, shed tears, when I had a second alone.
Mutada al sader the king | June 26, 2009 12:04 PM | PermalinkMy mother has always told me, "Use the gifts that God gives you because life is too short." Michael certainly used his gifts in his lifetime. He's made such an impact not only through his music, but with his humanitarian works as well. He will be missed.
Soulrific | June 26, 2009 11:47 AM | Permalink