When I heard of Michael Jackson’s death, I felt a wave of confused sadness. Immediately, I was flooded with memories of hearing his music in Japan, where I was raised.  The teenie-bopper magazines sent to us from the U.S. held photos and stories about his life as one of the Jackson Five. My friend Josephine and I absorbed these when we had sleepovers.

Years later, I watched his “Thriller” video over and over, captivated by his talent. In the mid-80s, when I worked at a refugee camp in The Philippines, the Vietnamese kids would blast his music through a cassette player and do the moonwalk. Michael was truly an international legend.

Recently, Michael was a confusing icon.  Now that he is dead, I suppose he will be remembered more for his music than for the uncertainties that stemmed from his bizarre personal life.

My son Daniel died in February 1997 from cancer treatments, and months later the world mourned Princess Diana and Mother Teresa’s deaths.  I was in such raw pain, I could not join the mourners.  I recall that at that time I wished my son had been so well-known that others would have grieved his death like they did these two celebrities. I wanted flowers strewn around the driveway of my home by passersby. I wonder if some of the newly-bereaved feel that way right now with all the attention given to Michael’s passing.

I’m not sure why we choose to make so much over the death of celebrities.  In a way, I feel sorry for Farrah Fawcett for dying right before Michael; he has taken the limelight away from her death.  Sounds like an odd thing for me to feel, perhaps.  Then again, of course, the media is making more over Michael’s death; he held talent and an international audience like no other.

Regardless of how we feel about the deaths of celebrities, I think it’s a time to realize many of them were lonely and sad people with addictions- in spite of their fame and fortune. My hope is that each of us would embrace our own life and realize that although we most likely will not be mourned like the King of Pop, we can be grateful for those who love us and walk with us every day.  To be loved and feel loved on a daily basis, and to know those who died before us loved us dearly-wrap your arms around that and smile.

Alice Wisler

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Alice Wisler

After the death of her son, Daniel, in 1997, Alice J. Wisler claims writing saved her. Her newest book, Life at Daniel's Place: How The Cemetery Became a Sanctuary of Discovery and Gratitude, focuses on the value of writing, remembrance, and faith. Alice gives Writing the Heartache workshops across the country. Through her organization, Daniel's House Publications, she designs and sells comfort cards/remembrance cards, and at her Carved By Heart imprint, carves personalized remembrance plaques. When she isn't writing or speaking, she is promoting her novels---Rain Song, How Sweet It Is, Hatteras Girl, A Wedding Invitation, Still Life in Shadows, and Under the Silk Hibiscus. Her devotional, Getting Out of Bed in the Morning, offers comfort and purpose for those dealing with grief and loss. Her cookbooks of memory---Down the Cereal Aisle, Memories Around the Table, and Slices of Sunlight, contain stories of food and memories of children who have died. Alice lives in Durham, NC, with her husband, Carl, and sweet boxer. ~~^~^~~ To learn more about Alice, visit her website: https://alicewisler.com/ and Patchwork Quilt Blog: https://alicewisler.blogspot.com/

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