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So...it's been four months going on five months since we've lost Michael and I feel I'm recovering but I have my days where I'm just a walking shell...I don't talk unless spoken to and basically just keep to myself. All I ask...why him of all people? I'm happy yes....but that's what they want to see but it's not what I feel...So, I have this reoccurring dream/thought that eating away at my mind and as I write about it...it brings me to tears. So, when I go through my days there ain't no sunshine when Michael is gone and even when the sun is shining at it's brightest it's still dark in my eyes.
Anyways, in my thoughts I'm walking through a cemetery...graves are lining my paths it's foggy and there's a slight mist. Why do I have to keep seeing this place? You brought me here why? Just to show me what will never be? I come upon the first grave and there is a girl who is 15 sitting there sobbing for her lost. I kneel beside her and we strike up a conversation. 'It's not fair...why did God have to take my uncle of all people?' She continues to cry out and I offer my an answer. Sometimes when a person completes their mission....they're called back to God. The girl looks at me with her tear stained face...'What about when their lives are cut short by the hands of another...someone who he thought was his brother? The real life Cain & Abel. She goes silent and I get up and start walking again then I hear. He was a man...who had once knew nothing but crime until one day he broke the silence with the sounds of chains at his mother's funeral before he's goes off to prison. Afterwards, he becomes a pastor and preaches the word of God. He wasn't even given a chance to fight to survive. If he wasn't even given a chance then how can I have faith in God again. With that she's gone. The date was April 11, 2006...
I continue along the path until I come upon another grave. This time there was another girl who was 18 at the grave. This time she's wearing a uniform...a police uniform with no emotion on her face. She stands there like a soldier at attention. She hears me and acknowledges me and nothing more. I stand next to her and strike up a conversation. 'This man...died in the line of duty and yet no recognition...' But he was a man who died for protecting those who couldn't protect themselves and doing what he loved. 'Yes, he did but his death was overshadowed by the death of his suspected killer by the supposed hands of his own.' I felt crushed because this man also acted as a mentor towards me and a few others whom we're so close to. I broke the news to my closest friend who had no way of finding out so I thought it was best to tell him. He was the closest to him but he's wasn't here to pay proper respect to his mentor. I attended his funeral not just for myself but for him as well. But he brought together a community who honored and were touched by his heroics. She looked at me with a small smile and for that I thank him. She hands me something and walks off but now without saying 'Rest In Peace Sergeant' and with that she was gone. I look at my hand and see a police officer's sergeant chevrons. The date was June 27, 2008.
I continue walking until I come upon one final grave site until I'm finally able to exit. At this site sits a little girl no older than 10 clawing at the dirt with tears falling fast and freely and some small dirt smudges on her small face. 'YOU CAN'T BE GONE!!' she screams repeatedly. I run to her and grad her and try to console her. She grabs at my shirt and continues to sob loudly trying to figure why she lost him. 'YOU SHOULD STILL BE HERE!!' For this I have no words and in fact I felt I've lost my voice. I just continue to listen to the girl sob by now she's down to a quiet sob as she returns to her spot. 'You even sang it in your song...whisper three words and I'll come running......She barely whispers 'Michael, come back. I still don't speak...I just walk to the girl, kneel down and hold her as she keeps sobbing....the day was June 25, 2009.
These three girls are myself...at the ages I've lost the people I loved and respected most. The one who speaks to them is also myself representing those who try to console me with their hollow words...words that seem so general now. With each I was able to help I was able to move on until I was able to leave the cemetery. But when I stopped at the ten year child I felt loss...I was 10 going on 11 when I became a fan of MJ and when I found at he died I listened to 'You Are Not Alone' and that opened the wounds and I reverted to my 10 year old self who was that hardcore fan. He died when I was 18 and turned 19 on his three month anniversary. I was able to recover from losing my uncle and my mentor but who can console me after losing MJ...I take each day with one step and hopefully I will think of those three with nothing more than a smile. I may grieve more for MJ but I don't love my uncle any less and I respect my mentor so much more for being willing to give his life up. Is there really such a thing as a time limit on the grieving process...
Love & Peace
~HeadphonesLuV~
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