I'm not even sure how to begin this post...
I guess I'll start like this. Everyone has their own beliefs about death. Mine have evolved over the years, I guess because I've had something like 4 brushes with death (at least that I can recall). The first I was about 3 or 4 and I don't know why I put the candy wrapper in my mouth, but I almost choked to death on it. The next time, I think I was around 8 and a friend was trying to teach me to swim. I don't remember where the lifeguard was, but I almost drowned. The last two brushes, I was hit by a car. (Neither time was it my fault) I feel like given these experiences, I have a reason to legitimately believe that death is not the end...for this reason, I don't buy into death as a goodbye...I see it as more of a see you later. I feel this way about my mom especially. Do I think sentimentality has something to do with my belief, I'd be a fool not to say yes, but that's not all of what fuels my beliefs.
The picture the family saw in the tree...draw your own conclusion
After the dream I had on Friday night/Saturday morning, I'm the last one in a position to say a thing. I'd describe it here..., but I'm still self-conscious enough to care what people think about me, and I don't want the negative attention describing my dream at the present time might draw. On the other hand, as has happened to me before, I could be worrying over nothing and if I tell it, people will probably consider it fairly bland compared to some of the more sensational stuff out there. I don't know...Maybe next month (on the 29th?)...Or one day when I'm feeling really brave.
The other element fueling my need to see death as another doorway, may be guilt. I've felt this with my paternal grandfather, my mother, and my maternal grandmother (Anything from not seeing them enough, to taking them for granted, to not appreciating what they had to offer while they were still here.). Obviously, the degree of guilt that I feel over the death of someone I don't know personally verus the degree of guilt I feel over a close relative is going to be different, but I still feel it deeply, for two reasons. I have no idea why I feel it so strongly, but I feel like I was wrong as far as the whole "did he? or didn't he?" argument goes...I feel like because I was wrong I forgot what a wonderful entertainer this man was. I've also heard a plausible theory that I hadn't heard before about why Michael Jackson changed his face. (The only person that really knows at this point is him anyway and he wasn't going to tell until he got good and ready, if then.) I let these things keep me from enjoying someone I thoroughly enjoyed as a kid, and I'm just going to say it point blank. I missed out. I got rid of some things that I can never get back. The thought of that alone makes me want to cry all over again. And the memories that went with them, don't even get me started on that. The only thing I was able to salvage. Thank God! ...was my mother's 45 of Get it Together/Touch. Don't think I'm not going to buy a record player as soon as I can afford (If I have to hit every flea market from hear to Cucamonga.).
I think it was something like a week or two before his passing, I happened to put it on Fox 5 early, because I was waiting on The Simpsons and I caught some of TMZ. Somebody, I don't know if it was the cameraman or someone with him, asked Michael Jackson if he could still moonwalk. He was being driven around in a car and the window was partially down. Anyway, he responded, "Why wouldn't I?". He didn't respond angrily or defensively, just genuinely puzzled and I had to laugh at that. I don't ever recall him acting like a jerk, even when someone gave him a reason to...how nerve-wrecking does that have to be? (and to do it day in, day out in the public eye? I really don't have a good feeling thinking about someone being unjustly put under/subjected to that type of stress. Nope, not good at all. ) Then, when I heard the news on...what was it, the 25th of June? That evening I was fine, but the next day, the reality of it started setting it and it hit me... hard.
I never hated Michael Jackson...I never wanted to see him hurt physically or emotionally/mentally, and I most definitely didn't want to see him dead.
I wish I'd been in a position to apply for the tickets for today's service, but with my upcoming move, my fibromyalgia, and the logistics of carrying out getting to LA involved, there was just no way.
I'm sorry. I love you, Michael and I will miss you more than mere words can express. Thank you for your music, your videos/short films, and being uniquely you.