It's been a while since I've had time to post anything, but as soon as I learned of Whitney Houston's death yesterday I felt like I had to share in the shock and grief I am sure most of the world is feeling. I am heartbroken, utterly heartbroken. It sounds so trite to say the words "tragic loss" when describing this beautiful, talented woman's passing. The fact of the matter is we lost Whitney Houston a long time ago. I was in high school when she first hit the airwaves. She was young, gorgeous, and had a voice that could only have been a gift from God. In many ways, I feel like I grew up with her: Whitney was there with me when I first kissed a boy, and then when I learned the hard way that not all the boys I liked actually liked me in return, she was right there to commiserate with me. Her music was lightweight pop to some, not "black enough" for others, but when she sang, she touched on every emotion in our hearts because she knew what we were feeling. She felt it too. She'd been there. When the First Gulf War was on, she stepped up and delivered a rendition of our National Anthem that has never been equalled. She was our princess, the picture of grace and elegance whose voice raised the heart of a nation when our hearts needed raising the most.
And then something happened to her. Some people (including Whitney herself) blame Bobby Brown for introducing her to the demons that would torment her for the rest of her life. Certainly my friends and I were shocked-- Bobby Brown was simply not in her league. Whitney should have paired up with Denzel Washington or Billy Dee Williams-- she should have found herself a man who was her equal, instead of rooting around the swine and coming up with Bobby Brown. But they married... and then the problems started. Before long, this beautiful, immensely talented woman was hooked on crack. Please note that I am not assigning blame. Everyone makes their own decisions in life. But even the hardest, most soul-damaging drugs can be an attractive alternative to someone living in abuse and misery. And sometimes we create our own misery. The problems compounded when a reality show portrayed her as a coarse, vulgar woman. Pictures were shown of the squalor in which she lived while she was searching in vain for the next high. Gold bath fixtures were covered in filth. Her mansion looked more like something out of "Hoarders." Those who tried to help were dismissed from her life. When you're chasing the dragon, nothing else matters. She divorced Bobby Brown in 2007, but by then most of her fortune was gone. Rehab followed, and we cheered her on, hoping and praying for the best, but when she performed live on a television show in 2009, it was clear that the years of abuse had taken a horrible toll. That voice, the voice of an angel, was no more. She was older, mature now, and she'd regained her legendary beauty... but the voice was gone. I remember over this past Christmas listening to her rendition of "Do You Hear What I Hear," a song she recorded back in 1987 for the first "Very Special Christmas" album. Her voice was powerful and pure. A chill still runs down my spine when I hear it... and I remember thinking with sadness that she will never sing like that again. And now the lady herself is gone. No one is sure yet just exactly what happened in that Beverly Hills hotel room-- some reports state she'd partied a little too hard this past week, and then took some prescription pills. Some say she drowned in her bath tub. All I know is that the lady still had a future ahead of her. She still had a career in films. She still had a daughter to love. And she still had millions of fans who hoped and prayed she would come back better than ever. But it was not to be. Whitney Houston's life and accomplishments should be honored and respected. Her sudden passing rightfully leaves us shocked and grief-stricken, and as we learn more about the life she led, it begins to resemble nothing less than a Greek tragedy. A tragedy that never had to happen. She is at peace now, no doubt getting ready to sing with the angels. God bless her and may He comfort her grieving family, My heart goes out to them.
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