1 Year Anniversary

One of the prevailing questions that has surfaced on this one year anniversary of Michael’s death has been “Where were you when Michael Jackson died??”
Let me tell you: I was at my Aunt Audria and Uncle Jerry’s house in the middle of nowhere Kansas. Lucky me, there was an afternoon thunderstorm, no electricity, and I was in the middle of calling softball girls from the landline phone to let them know their game had been cancelled for that night (my aunt was the coach.) All the sudden I start getting texts from friends, both young and old. “So sorry for your loss!” “I thought it was a joke  Thinking of you…” etc. Never anything with a name or what they were referring to. Finally I call my mom, who is in the harvest field, but has a radio in the grain truck. She answers the phone, “Meredith???” In that tone where she’s trying to feel me out before she actually says something. At this point I’m almost hysterical. Almost in tears I keep repeating…what’s going on?!?! What happened?!?!? She’s like, “You don’t know?” Another classic “Here’s Your Sign” moment for my mother. Uh, yeah Mom. I know all the details, yet I’m calling you in a near panic. Come on!! Finally she says, “About Michael?” …..

There’s so many things that have crossed my mind during the coverage of the one year anniversary of Michael’s death. I can hardly process it all. But the one thing that has been more than evident is the pure outpouring of love that has occurred in the last year. People actually talking to other people about healing the world, about changing their ways. And then actually takes steps to do those things. About Michael’s songs and his message. Years ago I remember being the ONLY Michael defendant (yes, defendant) in my entire school! But I always stood up for him and proudly supported him. And now it’s “cool” to be a fan again. How things have changed. I’m sure Michael is grateful for these changes, but then again, why did people ever doubt him? It absolutely amazes me how many people fell under the spell of tabloids and lies and merely found it easier to ridicule him then to dig for the truth. And also ridiculed those who chose to stay loyal to their hero, instead of taking the easy road.

But beyond all that. I feel so liberated. I talk freely about my love for this man whom I never met with anyone who will listen. You may think it’s strange, obsessive, weird. But there’s a reason I’m so inspired by him. I’m not sure what that reason is just yet, but at some point in my life it will become clear.