Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Michael and His Fans: An Inspiration of Hope

If we start living peace instead of just dreaming it,
then we will be living Michael's legacy!
Written for the Michael Jackson Tribute Portrait, 6/18/2010

There is no scale from which one can measure the level of pain that is felt after losing someone you love. Whether it is through death, divorce, changes in geographical locations or the agony of separation that is felt between two lovers who have drifted apart, the emptiness that ensues is deep and everlasting. Grief does not come with a set of instructions. If it did, I imagine it would read somewhat like a recipe.

Preparation and Cook Time: Will vary according to different elevations of grief.


3 quarts of Pain                                                                       2 gallons of Tears
2 pints of Loneliness                                                                8 cups of Why?
4 cups of Denial                                                                       2 ½ cups of Anger
A pinch of Hope

Combine all ingredients in a broken heart and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and let simmer until mixture is reduced by half. This can take anywhere from a few years to a lifetime.

Allow to cool. Pour into air-tight containers and store deep within your soul. Contents will stay fresh forever.

Serve with a side of memories and garnish with unshed tears.

One year after Michael’s sudden and tragic death, there are some who are still trying to come to terms with the loss, while others are struggling to find that elusive answer to the question - why? But as we look back on the last twelve months, there is one thing that remains unchanged. We are still standing together as a family; united by love and our dedication to ensuring Michael’s memory and legacy live on. Drawing strength from each other through our connected dots, the importance of carrying Michael’s dream into another year is as valid today as it was June 25, 2009. Perhaps even more so, because a dream lost is a future without hope.

Dreams are the mind drifting toward imagination
Imagination is the mind struggling to realize its potential
Potential is something we all possess, but often fail to act upon
What we fail to act upon leads to regrets and lost hope
Regrets and lost hope cause us to think of what might have been
What might have been is the dream we had of a brighter future
A brighter future was the dream Michael had for the world
Let this dream become ours, so we can assure a better tomorrow

“It’s all about L.O.V.E.,” Michael said, “Love is the answer.” So let us remember today, nor forget tomorrow, that yesterday Michael had a dream; an inspiration of hope that has become ours to carry forward in his memory.

R.I.P. Michael, we love you more!

Cycle of Seasons

It is not by my own design that I have been lead to this state of mind, nor did another’s hand guide me here. For how could I have known? How could I have foreseen these events that would bring me to my knees?

Had I been given a choice whether to embark upon this journey I would have declined, for I have arrived at my destination the same from whence I began, and that is with the knowledge of your absence from this life. The profound truth has been mine to face, but, while my acceptance has brought me a measure of calm the pain still lives within, hidden until that defining moment when memories come unbidden. It is on these occasions that I question the reasons why you departed, and seek to find some trace of past happiness from which to draw from. Some trace of a time not long ago when I knew my place in this universe however naively I perceived it.

Everything has altered and this world seems so much smaller now without your heart beating in time with mine. You took with you the warmth from my sun, leaving behind this imperfect light that has tinged my days since with sadness. Where once I found pleasure in the long hot days of summer and crystal clear nights spent under the stars, no more joy could I find in this season. It became a barren wasteland and I found myself imprisoned by the shadows cast by my grief. In this darkness I dwelt and my soul wept in silence through the changing of the leaves. As fall winds scattered them across the ground I watched with eyes incapable of seeing their splendorous beauty. My life was suddenly devoid of color and sorrow became my constant companion.

My dearest one, my only love, how I longed to see your face and hear the sound of your sweet voice again. This aching need within me grew as winter approached and with the first snow, the weeping songs from my heart and soul was the only sound to be heard through the cold, lonely nights. Such mourning as this where mind and body engage in a reckless dance of denial, saw me spiraling down through the cracks of reason. All hope was lost; my strength of will weakened from despair as I sank willingly, ready to embrace the void that beckoned. There I remained cocooned from reality until the first blooms burst forth heralding the arrival of spring.

It was a faint whisper; a stirring of the air that roused me from this endless sleep. My eyes finally opened to see life emerging from the ground and in the trees. I felt you then in that precious moment of awareness. I felt you inside me and saw your beauty in the rays of sun shining down on the Earth. Our spirits met in brief communion as I tentatively took my first steps towards the light of this day. Only once did I look back to see what I was leaving behind, because part of you was there; that part of you I yearned for so desperately. And I saw, oh and I felt what my heart had become; a landscape of burning embers.

So now I stand before the door of summer. Rising from the ashes I have come to realize a universal truth, that life goes on year after year, season after season in a continuous cycle of living, death and rebirth. A truth that acknowledges that nothing or no-one truly dies, for while the physical casts off its cloak of form and shape, the spirit lives on within the heart and mind. This is what I now carry inside. Your spirit, your memory, your love, and as I move through each day they will be forever present. The bittersweet memories will always cause me pain but, I cannot deny their existence for you are there within them.

So I will continue with my life and walk through the door of this summer and every one that follows, holding you close, always longing and always loving, until the time comes for me to take that final journey. The one that leads me back to you.

© 2010, Valmai Owens, All Rights Reserved
No reproduction without permission from author.


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