LONG STORY, SHORT ENDING

I know this past week has been non-stop Whitney Houston and that has been really annoying and baffling to some people to which I am very close.  "How can they honor a drug addict and alcoholic?" they ask.  But here is how I answer that question.  The proverbial "they" aren't honoring her decline, her fall from grace, but they are honoring who she once was:  a young woman whose future brimmed with light and life.  And by her sharing her gifts with the world, she brightened all our lives as well.  We celebrated her by buying her CD's, watching her movies and yes, expecting more and more of the same.  "To whom much is given, much is expected."  As we do with all celebrities, we put them on pedestals and then when they falter from all the weight of the never ending, unrealistic expectations we put upon them, we click our tongues out of pity and disgust as we watch them fall, ever so far, down that slippery slope of what used to be.
Don't get me wrong.  We, the public, did not cause Whitney's death, nor Michael Jackson's, nor Elvis', nor Heath Ledger's or any of the others who have fallen to drugs and despair.  Even their families cannot be blamed.  Many family members tried, and tried again, to get their sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, the help they needed, but in the end, it was the person, him/herself, who was responsible for his/her own demise.
But, what's the saddest thing of all to me, is to watch the early videos of these young people, how they had their whole lives ahead of them, how they were so young, innocent and full of promise.......until they lost their way.  As they aged- a big curse in Hollywood- they couldn't put the genie back in the bottle, try as they might (ex- Demi Moore and Whitney both partied with their teenaged daughters).  Think of Whitney at age 19, where she first started out on the Merv Griffin show and look now at her 18 year old daughter.  Her daughter, Bobbi Kristina, has had to live with two drug addicted parents all her life and now, the closest person to her in the entire world, has died.  What a starting off point to adulthood that is!  Whitney, on the other hand, had a very strong mother who guided Whitney with rules and boundaries.  Whitney's road ahead of her was bright and exciting; Bobbi Kristina's is scary and full of grief.  Hopefully, because of what BK has experienced, she will have enough support around her that her star can still shine through the clouds and she can make her mom proud.  I do wish this for her.
   I think both Whitney's bodyguards- her real one, and Kevin Costner, spoke so eloquently at the funeral when they reminded us that superstars are real people, with insecurities and  anxieties, just like the rest of us. No matter how good they are at their craft, they still wonder if they measure up to others' standards.  We need to stop ridiculing them when they don't measure up anymore. It reminds me of falling in love.  Those first 6 months or so when we can barely eat, sleep or think clearly, because our brain chemicals are on overdrive (an anthropologist just recently compared this phenomenon as having the same effect on us as cocaine would!) cannot be sustained. We all know this from our own experiences.  How difficult it must be, then, to have to keep trying to top one's own hit record or movie, again and again and again, for years!
Let's just try to remember that these superstars were once young, with childhood dreams just like we had, they went to our high schools, they sang in our churches; they were, for a time, one of us.  Let's applaud their successes......only without the pedestals.
Whitney, yours was a voice that will sing through the ages.

SHORT AND TO THE POINT

I've been wanting to write my thoughts about Whitney Houston's death all week, but have just not had the time to do so.  In the meantime, I just want to quote Robin Roberts from Good Morning America:
"We have to remember that a daughter lost her mother and a mother lost her daughter."  I thought that very poignant, especially since the 3 of them seemed to be a very tight package deal.

WE ALL NEED SUPPORT

THE STEPPING STONES by Barbara Williams, Fort Wayne, Indiana

Come, take my hand.

The road is long,

And we must

Travel by stepping stones.

No, you're not alone;

I'll go with you.

I know the road well.

I've been there.

Don't fear the darkness,

I'll be with you.

We must take one step at a time,

But remember, we have to stop awhile.

It is a long way to the other side

And there are many obstacles.

We have many stones to cross, and 

Some are bigger than others.

Shock, denial and anger to start,

Then comes guilt, despair and loneliness.

It's a hard road to travel, but it must be done.

It's the only way to reach the other side.

Come, slip your hand in mine.

What?  Oh, yes.

It is strong.

I've held many hands like yours.

Mine was once small and weak,

Like yours; because you see,

Once, I had to hold someone else's hand

In order to take the first step.

Oops, you stumbled!

Go ahead and cry.

Don't be ashamed, I understand.

Let's wait here awhile and get your breath.

When you're stronger, we'll go on....

One step at a time.....

There's no need to hurry.

Say, it's nice to hear you laugh.

Yes, I agree, the memories

you shared are good.

Look, we're halfway there now;

I can see the other side.

It looks so warm and sunny.

Have you noticed?

We're nearing the last stone,

And you're standing alone!

And look at your hand....

You've let go of mine.

We've reached the other side.

But wait, look back.

Someone is standing there.

He is alone and wants to

Cross the stepping stones.

I'd better go,

He needs my help.

What?  Are you sure?

Why yes, go ahead.  I'll wait.

You know the way,

You've been there.

Yes, I agree,

It's your turn, my friend.

To help someone else

Cross the stepping stones.

THE CYCLE OF LIFE

Last weekend, my daughter and I attended a funeral for the father of one of her closest friends.  I knew him, but not well, so I surprised myself by not being able to stop crying during the service!  The tears started when his daughter, Liz, walked into the church.  Knowing that she was now an orphan, (her mother had died 11 years earlier), was really tough, especially because I still have both my parents and I'm twice her age.  Liz has a wonderful family of her own, and a sibling, who also has a wonderful family, so she is definitely not alone, but she is parentless.  And that is why the tears wouldn't stop.
   Funerals are for the living, not for the deceased.  They serve many purposes: "they help us acknowledge the reality of the death, give testimony to the life of the deceased, encourage the expression of grief, provide support to the mourners, allow for the embracing of faith and beliefs about life and death and offer continuity and hope for the living."  Alan Wolfelt, Ph.D.  A video was shown of his life, along with stories told and songs read by his grown kids, that really helped us all to get to know him better.  In my opinion, laughter is such an important part of a funeral and it was definitely in full force here.  Happy, sad tears.
   After the funeral and graveside service, my daughter and I went back to the house for the reception, where Liz's dad lived and where Liz had grown up.  What must that have been like for her and her brother to now be in that house without their dad?  We could definitely feel his presence, but still...... he wasn't there.  And what will happen from now on, when Liz and her brother and their families come to town to visit, but he's not there to greet them or to play with his grandchildren?  That will be so strange.  And so sad.  But life goes on.
   Speaking of which, after a period of time, I asked my daughter to accompany me to my Significant Other's great nephew's one year old birthday party, since she had never met alot of these relatives and just happened to be in town at this time to be able to do so.  She made me promise that we would only stay one hour, so that she could get back to her grieving friend, which was the whole purpose of her visit.  I concurred.  As we were driving to the party, we both commented on the cycle of life.  Liz's dad just left this life and immediately behind him was this adorable one year old little boy just beginning his.  Life is a cycle.  It begins and it ends and it begins again.  We have to die, so as to make room for the ones behind us to live.  But as long as we continue to talk about the deceased, speak their names, tell their stories and honor their memories, they will live on through many generations to come.