michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 27)

smile...

i can actually smile these days, which is nice, but i'd really like to get back to being able to have a nice, hearty laugh again... you know, like the one where you were doing an interview in japan and you couldn't stop laughing because somebody's watch was going off... i would love to be there again.

i can smile, but my heart aches every time someone comes up to me and says, "i'm sorry" or "you're the first person i thought about when..." i am STILL receiving those comments, teacher... i am still getting people giving me the looks of condolence. and so one minute i CAN smile (finally), and then someone gives me that look and asks how i'm holding up, and my heart just breaks inside. i don't know if they see that or not.

i am certainly getting by... there's always albums, videos, clips of interviews where you espouse your wisdom and your search for the truth of love... i can reflect on those things and keep that in mind. but in that i know i will never hear your voice in the same way again; thus, my sorrow continues.

in your transcendence you have actually taught me that life is still, indeed, worthwhile. with all of the absurdity surrounding this whole thing, i have felt a need to go on and continue to seek that truth of love you strived for, and to honor you in the best way i know how. part of that truth is self-acceptance. the closer i think i am to it, the farther away i am. i realize it's a crucially long journey, but i know with the lessons you have taught me i can get there.

"we're almost there, don't give up..."

despite the smiles i am now able to produce, it is virtually impossible to hide all the traces of sadness... the truth is, i never know when i am going to begin crying again. what's the use of that, you ask? well, crying really does humble you, in a way. it's a universal sign of either pain or happiness, without the conundrum of words.



and today, a tear was ever so near... i spent some time thinking about how i was actually okay with being alone; just being free to not be committed to anybody (except i want kids really bad). i was thinking that it seemed like you lived your life that way too... i wonder if it's got to do with those trust issues... but i know i've lived a majority of my life NOT committed to anyone (and knowing that whenever i am it ends in sadness or rejection). today, at work i was thinking that i was really okay with that. in the midst of thinking about this a man walks up to me and asks how i am doing, giving me 'that look' (here we go again...). his two daughters were with him, and he mentioned how the oldest one was really worried about me. she said she saw you on the television when all of this happened, and wondered how i was. he said that she used the word 'friend'. i cannot even tell you how much my heart melted, teacher... this young child's concern for me touched me so much that i didn't know what to say.

i told you about that little girl a number of days ago, teacher... i am actually crying about it right now, as i am writing this.

but earlier, as he was telling me about this, i felt really touched. i just said 'thank you' and i waved at the two girls. they both sweetly waved back. the youngest one just kept waving and smiling at me. it touched me that they even thought of me at this time, or even at all. tears almost came to my eyes when i saw them, but they didn't. i walked it off. i didn't want them to see me cry; i don't know why.

later in the evening i saw my 6, soon to be 7-year old friend cada. you would be so proud of her, teacher... she's the one i developed a friendship with, because she used to call me 'michael' when i dressed up like you. we shared a bond because of you. and now i am watching her grow. the other day she made the decision to get a haircut, so she could donate her hair to make wigs for children with cancer. i remember discussing that with her mother that she was thinking of doing that; but she actually made the decision. i am so proud of her. i was having such a crazy day (sort of), and those two little girls and their smiles touched me so. and cada came in and gave me big hugs, and told me she loved me. and wanted to know when i was going to come and hang out with her next...

children bring such wonderful bits of wisdom to us, constantly. i know you know this, teacher. you spent much of your life trying to share your joy of children with the world. that wisdom is obviously not shared by the adult world...

in this day of relative calmness (with the children, anyway) i saw an article which disturbed me, teacher. this is why i don't read any articles on you pertaining to your transition. the article mentioned that there was a plan of sony releasing film footage of the rehearsals of your 'this is it' tour to cinemas, by the end of october. sony WON A BID, beating FOUR OTHER FILM COMPANIES for the rights to this footage. kenny ortega (yes...) is going to be credited as the director.

i'm sure you already know I AM BOYCOTTING THIS. i haven't even had a curiosity of finding out any news about you. had you still physically been here i would have leaned toward seeing this footage, to further explore my journey with you in terms of the book. but YOU ARE NOT PHYSICALLY HERE TO REPRESENT AND DEFEND YOURSELF. it's not fair.

i am just tired; i want this to stop.

"that's the time... you just keep on trying..."

i will try, teacher. for you, i will try.

your humble student,
jamilah