Whitney Houston’s death doesn’t break my heart…
I’ve sometimes been told I’m a harsh, blunt person. Growing up being teased about your weight (I was rail thin) and complexion (darker than most were comfortable with) and height (taller than everyone in my class) can do that to you. So, I reflect today and wonder why I’m not heartbroken that Facebook and Google Plus and YouTube and the news are all filled with people sharing their devastation at Whitney Houston’s death.
Perhaps I’ve been jaded over the last 41 years into recognizing that most celebrities, from my observation at least, don’t really live that long. I grew up in a hip-hop and rock-and-roll era where a lot of talent and expectation and exhaustion leads to a lot of drugs and sadness. I don’t think Whitney Houston’s journey is no different.
Like my peers, I do remember the great times I’ve had at pivotal points in my life growing up listening to her music. The summer “I wanna dance with somebody” came out I was in high school having the time of my life. “I’m your baby tonight” came out when I got my first apartment by myself as a junior in college. I can remember lots of men and memories during those times but…
I didn’t personally know Whitney Houston. As far as I know I have just one friend who actually did: my old roommate Steve Abrams, a singer who personally knew her, has been to her home, had a real relationship, yada yada. For Steve, my prayers go out to him and I know the heart ache he feels is real. Beyond him, I don’t think any of my other hundreds of friends (from Facebook at least) knew her personally (not to say that makes their experience of her any less valid).
For me, I think it’s sad that Whitney died at this time in life, as she was back on track to pursuing her dreams further and sharing her talent with the world. I don’t know enough about her to know if she’d found her way. I know we all die. The time that we die can be shocking, but for me, my heart aches and breaks deepest for those I have the deepest relationship with. Those I know and have shared real moments with in life, love and laughter.
When was the last time the people in mourning even played a Whitney Houston song? How many of them mocked her when she fell out of favor and had her life broadcast on reality tv? How many said even one prayer for her when it was discovered that she had succomb to drugs? We live in a society where the death of celebrities is oddly inflated. I can’t describe it.
I hope as everyone reflects on how the news of another celebrity icon reaches their reality that they’ll take a look around them, realize that we all will die, and carve out time to create special moments with those people that they have a deep relationship with. Aren’t those moments really the ones we live for?
