Do You Remember The Time?

(yeah, that's my MJ album, inherited from my grandfather's album collection)

I was coming out of my bedroom phone in hand when I got the shocking text. It was a friend of mine saying how she was devastated and couldn't believe that Michael Jackson was dead. I heard myself loudly saying "WHAAT?!" in horror and disbelief and ran to turn on CNN. I just knew it was a bad joke or a horrible tabloid rumor. I mean, it was Michael Jackson and we have heard stranger about him. But as I watched the TV and saw the headlines going across the bottom of the screen, I sank into the sofa and began to cry, my heart instantly broken. I cried for days and would break into spontaneous tears anytime I heard a Michael Jackson song, saw a video, or a picture.

I remember being in the mall - in Macy's no doubt - a few days later and they were playing Michael Jackson and this little boy who looked to be about seven or eight got soo excited and started dancing and talking excitedly to his parents in a language I couldn't understand (sounded Russian or close to it) but I heard him say Micheal Jackson and my eyes instantly watered. It was beautiful to see that.

You see, I am a child of the 80s and I was in love with Michael Jackson. He was magic, personified, walking around. I used to watch the videos of the girls and boys and grown men and women that passed out at his concerts and had to be carried out. I wanted to be one of them. I WAS one of them... I grew up performing, singing and acting and Michael represented to me, no limits. There were no limits on what you could do, be, have or how much you could love, live or give. And that is what I have chosen to hold on to and continue to believe in. I loved you Michael. I still do. And thank you...