Goodbye Whitney I will always love you

Whitney Houston. What more can I say. Another one of my wonderful memories of youth gone. To say I am devastated is an understatement.

I found out last night while I was at a black tie event celebrating and raising funds for the Arts, just as the dancers were about to come on stage. Someone turned to me and said, I just heard Whitney Houston died.

My heart nearly stopped. All I could think about was the possibility that had lain before her. The talent she had. Her daughter who had instantly become a motherless daughter just like me.  I thought about all the events and special occasions her daughter would never be able to share with her mother. I shivered. Sounds seemed muted.

As the dancers glided across the stage, I half watched them thinking about Whitney and the irony of me sitting watching performing arts knowing a light had gone out in that world. The Voice was no more. I hoped she wasn’t alone. I hoped she wasn’t sad. I could see Whitney’s face as clear as day in front of me. I could hear her singing. I didn’t know what to do.

It felt odd to be sitting watching a dance while her family grieved the loss of their daughter, mother, niece, cousin and friend. I thought she was trying to find her way out of the darkness. I thought about when I first fell in love with her singing.  “The greatest Love of all”. That song became my mantra when I was experiencing a dark period in my life in 1985. We were the same age. I admired her.

I would stand in the mirror and sing, “Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all”...  believing  if I did I would be okay. I thought I could be like the power I heard in her voice as she sang. I thought she sang it so powerfully because she believed in the words. “The greatest love of all is easy to achieve”. Now I believe  she probably sang that song with such strength because she so desperately wanted to believe them. To feel them.

Looking at Whitney in the early days when she burst onto the scene she appeared to be such a Diva surrounded by strong women – her mother, her Godmother Aretha Franklin, and her iconic Aunt Dionne Warwick. Maybe she felt she wasn’t good enough. Couldn’t fill their shoes. Even though to the outside world she more than filled them.

Perhaps celebritydom pushed her over the edge. Perhaps she didn’t want to portrayed as the squeaky clean image that everyone held her to in the beginning and that’s why she chose ”bad boy” Bobby Brown. Soon after that the Whitney who had become iconic in so many of our minds became almost a joke. I know I felt betrayed at first about who she had become. Until I realised you don’t become, you always are.

She spiralled out of control and all of us wrote her off. Disappointed with her. Judging her. Watching her descend more and more into the darkness. Divorce Bobby. Making a comeback. Her interview on Oprah gave me hope she was on her way back to the Light.

Her song,  “ I wasn’t built to Break” became my mantra last year when I found myself jobless overnight and I  was searching  for who I was and who I am. Like her I felt I could make it through anything because trials may come but if I believed, anything was possible. I really thought she was feeling the same way. But she obviously couldn’t stop herself from being drawn to the dark side. Being drawn to escapism rather than reality.

I am extremely sad to know that Whitney, a woman my age. A woman I entered womanhood with who had the voice of an angel never learned to love herself. Never learned to forgive herself. Never accepted that she wasn’t built to break . Told Diane Sawyer, “The biggest devil is me. I’m either my best friend or my worst enemy.” Her worst enemy overpowered her best friend and she succumbed. Died. In a hotel room. On the day of one of her opportunities to show the world and more importantly herself the power she still had.

Or was her exit her last Swansong knowing she was going to be on the tips of everyone’s tongues because she had made her last appearance the night before shakily singing, “Yes Jesus loves me...” Always looking to the outside for love rather than within.

Whitney, I will always love you. You were a beautiful and talented woman who burst onto the scene when many of us your age were looking for hope. And you gave it to me and to us but not to yourself. I’m just sad you never embraced the hope and love you always had.

Rest in Peace Whitney. The curtains have come down. The rocky road is done. Judgement is over and now you have the wings to soar. Your voice will always be with us. I will always love you....