I know people die. Death, as we know it, the displacement on this Earth, is imminent.
When someone we know dies, sadness is also imminent. The loss of that person, causes us to reexamine life in different ways. Or it should be that way.
Bowie’s death hits deep. It resonates, stings and hurts. Tears drop, as I associate his passing with Jannie. She loved him so and I loved that she loved him so. It’s been 18 months since she left the planet. Bowie must’ve just discovered his own battle with cancer around the time she died. Commonality of the ironic kind.
Sitting on my bed for hours upon hours, Ziggy Stardust and Young Americans spun on my record player as often as I thought about the meaning of life as most teenagers do. I’m convinced we’d all be walking dead if not for music. Bowie defined my need for creativity, the yearning to understand being different need not be forced, that soulfulness resides in us all, if we care to feel it.
It’s funny how death can be liberating for those left on this planet. Death makes a pretty big impact as one gets older. God’s got us covered, though we don’t necessarily do ourselves.
When Jannie died, I envisioned we would sing Heroes together, somewhere on a boat, top of our lungs, celebrating LIFE. Soon I shall crank up my iTunes in my car and celebrate LIFE with both Jannie and Bowie. We can be heroes. Just for one day.