Last month two icons from my childhood passed away; Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. While I didn't know either of them personally, their deaths hit me hard.
I remember looking forward to seeing Farrah and her fellow Angels get their new assignments every week from their mysterious boss. Her long blonde tresses were the envy of many women. She was the sex symbol of her time.
Michael Jackson and his famous brothers were my favorite group for much of my youth. I don't think I ever missed any of their live appearances in New York between 1972 and 1978. An ardent fan, I collected posters of Michael Jackson and rehearsed what I would say to him if we met (oddly enough I did meet him briefly at a play in New York. He was so shy he could barely talk).
So why did the passing of these veritable strangers cause me to pause? I think because their mere existence was an element of my personal history. They were fixtures from my childhood. Their deaths signalled a change in this place I call my world. Change is never easy to accept. But I realize now that since change like death is inevitable, wouldn't it be easier just to embrace it? Despite the fact that these icons are gone, life goes on for the rest of us. Rather than resist this change it is better to just allow our memories to live on.
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