I think I began driving a little slower as I processed the news.
I thought about "August Rush", "Dead Poet's Society", "Awakenings" , "Mrs. Doubtfire", "Hook", "Jack", and I even thought about "Toys".
"Mork and Mindy" aired during my college years, and I rarely missed an episode.
"Mork and Mindy" aired during my college years, and I rarely missed an episode.
I don't know how many times I've watched his visit to the Actor's Studio.
It is one of the finest displays of improvisation I have ever seen.
His mind did seem to work faster than everyone else's.
The feeling I had yesterday was the same feeling I had when Lucy died...and Phyllis Hyman...Bernie Mac...Whitney Houston...Andy Griffith and so many other talented strangers.
The feeling I had yesterday was the same feeling I had when Lucy died...and Phyllis Hyman...Bernie Mac...Whitney Houston...Andy Griffith and so many other talented strangers.
We hurt, even momentarily because our lives had been kissed by their gifts.
We smile because we can always reach for a CD, DVD, or log on to YouTube and be entertained all over again.
I was reminded of a poem I wrote in 2009:
THAT STRANGE CONCERN
Eyes close and never reopen every day
If only words could change things
"I'm so sorry!"
"Oh no!"
"What a shame."
"I'll pray."
But, there are those
Whose passing seems wrong
Too sudden
Too soon
They were supposed to stay forever
They belonged to all of us
Or so we thought
What will we do without them?
They were special
Yet, we never wrote or talked
We only knew them from afar
There's no real tie at all
But why are our hearts still aching
As if some part of us is missing?
Whatever they did filled some space
Some time
Some era of our lives
They made us laugh, applaud, or cry
Or thank God they weren't too shy
Or selfish to share their gift
They just gave
And never knew we received it
They shined
And never knew our days were made brighter
We hear they're gone, and tears well up
There's that heavy sigh
Stunned silence
It stings a little
"I wish I could have told them..."
"Didn't they know how much we loved them?"
"How could they not know?"
Then, we seek the company of others
Who'd laughed, and cried, and thanked God, too
"What happened?"
"Did you hear?"
We remember our favorites of theirs
And demand answers that aren't ours to know
We wonder and embrace the sadness
And wipe the odd tears that fell
Things seem so unbalanced- so off course
Why them?
Not THEM
Wait.
Why do we even care?
Does this thing have a name?
This odd, strange, and deep concern
For someone we don't even know?
And even when the truth is told
What will we do with the details?
Will we love them any less?
We mourn the faces of strangers
Glossy, projected images
Amplified sounds
Choreographed movement
The beautiful people
But ordinary people just the same
Souls so talented and gifted
But they never even knew our names
Still, they go, and we hurt
For a little while
And then, in an instant, we're okay
We can always see their faces
We can always hear their voices
They left behind enough to keep us occupied
More would have been nice
But we're satisfied
Then we go on about our days
As if nothing happened
While the real pain is in their loved ones' eyes.
Their parents, spouses, children, and friends
The strange concern ends
We don't know THEM.
vrwc2009
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