A friend of mine and I secretly joke about people’s dramatic, gushing proclamations after a celebrity death. We often wondered how can someone honestly be “devastated” by the passing of an individual whose music/voice/personality we’ve only digested through a middle man such as the radio, a Letterman interview, or a blockbuster film.
I wondered this until Saturday, February 12, 2012. I was in
Then it hit me.
This was the voice of a woman who was no longer with us.
I could tell you how the tollbooth guy seemed genuinely concerned by my tear-streaked face during our transaction, but I’d rather share something more valuable. Whitney's life and music taught me a few things:
2. Love is a contact sport. As the child of a minister, there were few secular artists whose music made it into our house, but there was no avoiding the big, powerful and family friendly sound of Whitney Houston. Furthermore, my military elementary school in
followed the National Anthem with “One Moment In Time” as a form of inspiration, every single morning. Before I got to find out for myself, I learned that sometimes love hurts so bad, love is timeless (I Will Always Love You), and that anxious, nervous, feeling I got whenever I saw that boy from my class was normal (How Will I Know). She even taught us a little self help with The Greatest Love of All. Texas
3. Women can do it all. These days, filmmakers anxious to sell tickets give acting gigs to anyone with a recognizable face, making the “singer slash actress” role almost assumed. Whitney though... she did it right. Whitney not only headlined the soundtracks for The Bodyguard, Waiting to Exhale, and The Preacher’s Wife... but she acted in them. Let me say that again, she ACTED in them. Whitney was more than a pretty face who could sing; she was a mother, a wife, a philanthropist, an actress, and a producer. She truly epitomized “I’m Every Woman” and taught me from an early age that I could be too.
4. Everyone makes mistakes. For four years straight, I was Whitney Houston for Halloween and not just because it was a relatively cheap costume, but because she was gorgeous, well-spoken, had an amazing talent and seemed like such fun to be around. She wasn’t human to me; she was larger than life. But while Whitney’s voice inspired and brought joy to millions, her life was often spotted with rough times. Unlike you and me, Whitney didn’t have the luxury of enduring these trials with a finite spotlight cast by her family and friends; Whitney went through it all publicly. While her pain may have been exponentially increased by this glaring spotlight, it served to remind me and much of
that everyone has problems and everyone stumbles. The woman that I most wanted to be like growing up has died at 48 leaving her 19 year old daughter motherless. I won’t speculate about the cause of her death, because big picture wise, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we recognize the very human quality of the entertainers that enrich our lives. America
Whitney’s voice made her unique. But Whitney’s troubles made her one of us. And for that, I am grateful.
I haven’t stopped missing Whitney since I got the news. But while I’m sorry she’s left us, I’m thankful that her music itself provides the salve to the wound in our hearts.
Rest in Peace, Whitney.