Preface – Are you okay, Annie?

June 25, 2009 will forever be etched into my mind. I think maybe I should borrow the lines of the Fresh Prince here: “Now, this is a story all about how my life got flipped-turned upside down!” But in all seriousness, Michael Jackson’s death was a real (and incredibly unexpected) jolt to my life.

The evening of the twenty-fifth, I had a class (which met around 6pm, I believe), and I was lying down for a bit before leaving. My ex called me at about 5:30-5:45 and we talked briefly, which made me a bit late. After hanging up, I came out of my room to rush and put my shoes on and go out the door. It was then that I received a rundown of the news from my mom of Farrah Fawcett dying and Michael Jackson being in a coma. I think my reaction was just simply “…….what?!” but I had a class to get to, so I didn’t really think deeply about any of it.

When I got in the car and turned on the radio, I was greeted with the end of “Billie Jean.” Since that’s one of my favorite Michael Jackson songs, I started grooving along right away and felt pretty good. I remember momentarily thinking, “Wow, it sucks that it takes him being in a coma to get people to play his music,” but that thought didn’t last long … because once the music ended, the announcement came over that Michael Jackson had just died.

I was backing down the driveway, head turned to look out the back window as I did so, and I ended up slamming my face against the seat as my foot pressed down on the break HARD and rocked the whole car. I picked up my cell phone and dialed my mom (who was inside the house, obviously), then continued to back down the driveway as I told her what I’d just heard. It was all a strange reaction from me, since no other celebrity deaths over the past few years has impacted me at all, and I wasn’t exactly closely following Michael Jackson, either.

Anyway, I arrived at campus and walked into the building my class was in. I turned the last corner and saw the TV on, talking about Michael’s death, and the two janitors sitting in front of it in disbelief. I wanted to say something to them, but I didn’t because I was already late. I still think of that moment whenever I pass that corner.

Continuing on, I got into my class and started on my lesson, but the silence started to drive me crazy at a point. The class was done individually on computers, so it was essentially a study hall of sorts, which I normally love, but that day, I absolutely hated it. I couldn’t understand how everyone could be so quiet and everything remain so normal when Michael Jackson had just DIED. I wondered how many people in the class even knew about it, since I only knew because I’d been late. I kept quiet though and tried to stay focused on my work, but those two hours were the longest two hours of my life.

When I got home, despite how I felt, I kept rolling my eyes at how EVERYONE had to update EVERYTHING mentioning Michael’s death. I’ve pretty much felt that way for every celebrity death that’s happened recently. There’s always an influx of posts about the person and everyone becomes their biggest fan for a week and it all feels really fake and offensive to me. I thought the fact that I was scoffing at everything was a sign that the weird way I’d reacted earlier that evening was just a fluke.

Well, it wasn’t.

I became pretty severely depressed for about a week after Michael died. And it really freaked me out. The worst part was that I didn’t know how to articulate exactly WHY I was sad. I also felt I had nobody to talk to who wouldn’t just laugh at me. I kept it all to myself and eventually ended up crying uncontrollably one night, alone in my room, after some small thing my mom said to me (which I can’t even recall anymore) just triggered everything I’d been holding in to spill over.

I started to get it back together after the Memorial, which I only watched a small portion of. But it helped me have a definite door to close on the issue, thank God.

At some point in all of this, I visited with my therapist and discussed the issue a bit. I think I ended up crying in that session too. I managed to find the words for why I felt so bad, at least. Although I was born in the mid-eighties and have very little memory of Michael Jackson being “MICHAEL FUCKING JACKSON” and not “Whacko Jacko” and such, I still was always on his side in everything, albiet quietly. I realized that, while I’d intentionally kept a distance from being a really devoted fan (in order to avoid ridicule), I’d still always kept an eye on what he was doing and hoped for him to have a comeback / fairy tale ending to everything. When his story instead ended extremely abruptly and tragically, it tore me the fuck up. I felt like my childhood and, in some sense, hope had died with him.

As some background into my personal life to give this some context: since 2006, there has been a death in my family each year–mostly due to cancer–and each time occurring right at the holiday season. Then, of course, there has been my own mental health issues, along with my brother’s cancer diagnosis this year. It’s been pretty rough, to put it lightly. And apparently, for me, Michael’s death closed the door completely to a certain period of my life; he was the last link to my childhood and past in general.

But, as the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens up. In the months since his death, I’ve had a complete turnaround in everything. His death kick-started my life.

Every breath you take is someone’s death in another place.
Every healthy smile is hunger and strife to another child.
But the stars do shine and promising salvation is near this time.

- The Jacksons

While I’m still saddened by his passing, the positive impacts I’ve seen from it–in my own life or in others–have made the hope that I thought died with him return to me threefold. I believe his real legacy lies not so much in his amazing talents as a performer, but in his ability to bring the world together and teach us to love and heal each other. He also taught the world to never give up on what you love, even if you feel everyone else has abandoned you. Michael Jackson had amazing strength in many forms, and is a true inspiration to me in every way possible–spirit, endurance, motivation, healing.

I truly believe in Elizabeth Taylor’s recent quote in reference to Michael: “[...] Say to yourselves, ‘I saw genius in my lifetime.’”