The first time I laid eyes upon you I knew I would never be the same again. You were my Disneyland, my Santa Claus, and so much more.
You were the first to tell my spirit it was a creative one, the first to teach me that when one puts forth the effort to master their passion they themselves can create magic.
Your name was a staple in everyone’s life, all who heard it never imagining the day would come when you would no longer be among us. Who else could bring massive crowds to tears merely by stepping up on a stage? Who else could cause so many to fall into unconsciousness just by moving their body, releasing their voice?
You are the closest thing we had to supernatural, right there in the flesh to be believed in the here and now, not printed in some book and told it must be believed just because it was written to say so.
Nine years. Nine years since we lost that magic in our lives, and yet all I have to do for my eyes to gather tears is to watch some clip of you performing, any clip really. Then the good things about my childhood come flooding in, only to be overtaken by the shock of that June day nine years ago today. Because you had filled the void of a positive male role model, a happy childhood, the whimsical wonder of fascinating discovery. Because of being that magical person in my life my heart will forever be in mourning from losing you.
Nine years since you’ve been gone, and yet ask a child of just about any age anywhere in the world and they will know the name Michael Jackson. How could they if they hadn’t even been born yet when you left, or still so new to this life that memory hadn’t developed in their young minds? That’s the kind of magical effect you had on this world. That so many years later the essence of who you were, who you still are to hearts like mine, still glows among us today.
Dear Michael, this is when a writer is at a loss for words. When none but six pour forth like tears…
I thank you.
I miss you.