Michael Jackson’s public memorial was today.
I wasn't going to watch the broadcast – I had other things to do, I felt I’d already said goodbye, and most of all, I didn’t want to cry anymore. So, thinking it was over after about an hour, I turned on the radio but heard the announcer recapping the last speakers and performances from the service; apparently it was still going. I decided to watch “for a few minutes.”
I always wonder why it takes a “negative” event (like a funeral/wake/memorial/life celebration) for us to stop our life routine and pay attention to what’s important. As I watched the event with millions of people worldwide, I cried again. I cried for the loss of my childhood hero, and for the part of my childhood that I connected to him. I cried for a family in pain, and for a pain most parents thankfully do not know. I cried for all of us who’ve lost loved ones through death, disappearance, or emotional cut-off, and for all of us who’ve taken ourselves and others for granted at some point during life. I cried for the human experience that fears death and pain, yet knows it is our inescapable destiny. I cried sadness, I cried disbelief, I cried anger, I cried futility. And when I’d cried enough, I prayed in gratitude for the universal love and support for everyone suffering today.
I sighed as I stood up, knowing that (even if I don’t want to) I’ll cry again on a different day -- and the sun will also rise, and we will love, laugh, lose, laugh, and love again and again. Maybe for me, remembering what’s important is simply remembering all it means to be human.
