The Aftermath

                                                     This is what has truly been lost

 The world is still spinning on its axis from the news of Whitney Houston’s shocking death. I didn’t know her personally, so my opinion isn't that precious, but I can attest that her presence is sorely missed.  Each time I scroll through the television channels, I can’t help but to come across a news flash, ticker, or program highlighting Ms. Houston. It’s definitely a heart wrenching moment for many, as she was definitely a true talent beloved by the world. However, loving her voice and her beauty does not give any of us the right or privilege to judge her and the life she lived.

I know a little something about experiencing the loss of a celebrity.  It has been almost 4 years since my father passed away. And I can honestly say that has been the most devastating moment in my life.  I wish I didn’t remember the exact moment as well as I do.  He passed away in the middle of the night before 3 am.  By the time my mom and I made it back to my parents’ home,it was all over the news.  Every channel was broadcasting the news of his death, along with other celebrity’s reactions.  The phone rang off the hook with every publication wanting an official family statement. Throughout my dad’s career, we’d never been harassed by paparazzi, yet on that day there they were camped out across the street from my parents’ home. It was such a surreal experience.  Never before in my life had I become so aware of the phenomenon of celebrity as it pertained to my father. He was always simply Daddy, and it was so awkward to have to publicly grieve, and deal with the petty remarks and opinions of others. I remember watching Larry King debate Ashton Kutcher over whether or not my dad was a good actor and I remember thinking “Who the hell cares?!  He’s now dead! Do you think I care if you thought he could act or not? No, I just care that I lost my father!”  There were rumors that he died of AIDS. It pissed me off because I felt like I had to do crowd control instead of simply grieve the loss of my dad. Then there were the people who would come up to me and tell me things like “You’re not grieving alone. We lost him too.” Depending on the day, I would find comfort in those words, and other days I would want to pull a Roland Martin and smack the ish out of them.  No you didn’t lose him! You didn’t even know him! I, on the other hand, am the only person in this world who lost Bernie Mac . . . her father!   I know that those people meant well, but they had no idea how I really felt. 

I really do get that they were fans and when it comes to celebrities who we invite into our homes through their music, jokes, movies,shows, etc. we begin to feel like we know them. They become to a certain extent, an extension of our families. We talk about them during family get togethers, over the dinner table, at social functions. And we do it as if we’re talking about another family member.So when they show us just how human they are—especially by doing something as human as dying—we’re left feeling the emptiness their death has left us.  However, we need to remember that the person was more than a celebrity. They are, in my father’s wise words, ordinary people with extraordinary jobs.  What you miss is the fact that you’ll never hear them tell a new joke, or sing a new song, or sing your favorite song again.  You miss that there will never be a new movie with your favorite actor.  You don’t miss the person.  How could you? You didn’t even know them.  Which is why you have no business making any kind of judgment about the way they lived their life. 

That is why I feel so for all of Whitney’s loved ones who have been left to tend to their gaping wounds so openly—particularly her daughter, Bobbi Kristina.  I was 30 years old when I lost my dad and it utterly devastated me.  But at least I had grown into adulthood and was able to share in some major milestones with him. This young lady is only 18 and has to deal with the loss of her mom.  On the day she gets married, her mother will not be there.She will not be able to go to her mom for advice during her pregnancy or watch her mother joyfully play with her grandchildren.  When she graduates from college, gets her first job, has a bad day, she can no longer call upon her mom to help her through.  Essentially, each new experience in her life will be a constant and painful reminder of what she is missing.  She’ll of course begin to heal a bit,but the pain will never ever go away. And she has to endure this pain publicly.  Now people want to criticize Whitney for her drug addiction,her friends, Bobby Brown, and anyone else they can just to be able to blame someone.  Blame is a monstrous beast that only increases an already existing problem. It never takes into account that at any given moment, most of us in this world are really doing the very best that we can.  Ms. Houston is no exception. 

I get it though. That’s part of the deal when you become a celebrity. Opening yourself to the public makes them privy to details of your life, which wouldn’t be open for discussion if you were the average citizen.  And since you will make more money than most will ever see in their lives, you’ll get very little sympathy when you complain about your lack of privacy or empathy from the world.  Fame is a most titillating yet harsh suitor.  It is proof that every single thing is both a blessing and a curse.  People love you as long as you do what they want.  However, they’ll rip you to shreds when you have the audacity to show your human-ness.  I said this the other day, and I'll say it again. I really wish we understood that death is not a punishment that is solely dispensed to those who are imperfect or act in what we consider the more heinous of ways.  We are no better than a person simply because they reached the end of their earthly journey before we did.  One dying at what we deem an early age is not indicative of them being a terrible person.  It is simply a symptom of being human.  Whitney Houston is more than her drug addictions. She is more than a golden voice. She is more than a troubled singer. She is a mother, daughter, girlfriend, cousin, best friend, lover, and human being who just completed her human journey. She has left behind a host of fans, but more importantly, loved ones who are forever scarred by the painful loss of her life. Let’s try to remember that when we remember her.