Goodbye, Michael… and thank you

I was never really a Michael Jackson fan, but in the days following his death, as all the radio stations played his music, I realized that I knew more lyrics to his songs than I would ever have believed. One major reason for that was that Michael Jackson, only a little less than two years my junior was permanently engraved in the soundtrack of my life. The Jackson Five burst on the scene while I was still in elementary school, and unlike other musicians, Michael Jackson music remains constant even now. He wasn't a one-hit-wonder, his music was real, relevant, and he changed his style to fit the times. His music spanned generations and genres, and his genius was never really recognized during his lifetime, except by musicians, and I fancy myself included in that number, although I never pursued music as a career, but rather as a sideline.
         I watched the Michael Jackson Memorial service yesterday, in its entirety. I didn't plan to do that, at least not as a live broadcast. I had set the DVR to record it so that I could watch it in snippets later, when I had the time. I ended up watching, from beginning to end, "sucking snot" the whole time. It was a very emotional service, not sad, but it invoked emotions that I didn't realize I harbored… the feeling of loss, especially for his mother, who must have been saying to herself, "that's my baby in that box… my little Michael."  I could imagine her, a little over fifty years ago, counting little fingers and toes, and smiling down into that angelic face, thinking, "This one is special!" even though she probably thought that about all her babies at the time of their birth. No matter how many babies a mother has, all of them are special in her heart. I could sympathize and empathize with this mother. My heart went out to her, and so I just couldn't turn it off.
         The most striking aspect of the service was that it was incredibly "normal", with none of the strangeness that was generally associated with Michael Jackson entering the proceedings. Everyone who spoke talked about his child-like love of laughter, how he liked to have fun, and how, even though he was denied a childhood by his professional demands, being in his presence showed that he had retained much of the innocence associated with childhood… the belief that there is still good in the world and that each person may be only one person, but is obligated to do what he can do to help all people, to help humanity. Pictures from his life showed him playing with his children, running and laughing with childlike abandon, and I thought to myself, as his daughter said, "my daddy was the best daddy anyone could ever have", more grown men should take the time and be like children, should run and play and devote themselves to their children. I knew, in my heart that, if they did, there would be far fewer children ending up in prison, and far more children growing up trying to save the world. Although it was not apparent in Michael Jackson's life, in his death, he may truly have accomplished the greatness of his contribution to the music world.
         So, "Goodbye Michael". Thank you for your music, for your love, and for the indelible childhood and adult memories you provided for more than one generation of people, all over the world, woven into the soundtrack of their lives.