Photo Credit: BL1961/Flickr.com
Death is no respecter of persons. It comes to the poor, unknown, rich and famous alike. It is the great equalizer. Whoever said, “Nobody gets out of this life alive” was spot on.
I don’t belittle nor wish to diminish the sadness many have for the passing of a famous person. I know I regret not being able to hear Janis Joplin sing songs written after her death. Like so many famous people, she was a tragic figure. Though many of her problems were of her own making, they were heightened by those surrounding her who exploited her and preyed on her weaknesses. Does any of this sound familiar?
It isn’t for those who have passed on that I feel most sorry, but for those left behind. Those who have lost someone they desperately love (note the love, not loved), someone whose passing has left a hole in the heart that can never be filled. The small children who keep asking why mommy isn’t coming home, a mother killed by a drunk driver. The soldier’s wife who can’t stop crying long after she has buried her fallen husband. The parents who don’t know if their child is dead or alive, just that their child is missing. People who, of themselves, are powerless to repair their broken lives, people who desperately reach for answers that elude them.
For every Michael Jackson who passes, there are a million men of no celebrity whose passing leaves their wives not only without the love and comfort of a husband, but without the resources to feed their children tonight.
For every Steve McNair who leaves us, we lose thousands of men of average talents and extraordinary character who give much of their lives in volunteer service to our youth, working tirelessly to provide not only guidance and direction, but to be role models of true honor, integrity and decency to young men in our inner cities.
For every Farah Fawcett who is taken too soon there are thousands of nameless and faceless women who serve in the impoverished and war torn areas of the world providing relief and comfort to the hungry, sick and dying. Their beauty and charm is in their sacrifice and service, and when any one such woman falls the void left by her passing is again reclaimed by misery and suffering.
Mourn the passing of the famous, but give thought and prayer for those many others the public never knows.
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Very well written musing on the significance of death for the famous as well as the unknown, Mary Ann! I want to say, “Amen!” to about all of it.
I’d just add that for us Christians the death of a dearly beloved isn’t only a time to mourn (which when one gets down to it is selfish sadness that we don’t get to enjoy the person any more in this life) but also to celebrate the life that just transitioned into eternity. I remember when my wife’s best friend of the time in Clarksville passed away after a fierce struggle against cancer, the funeral held in our church was much more a party than a dirge. True, there were some tears of loss, but much more sharing of joyful anecdotes and singing of the triumphant end of her struggle. About that same time I got exposed to the concept that for a cancer struggler (I shy away from “cancer victim”), it’s okay to pray for healing, by medical means, by divine miracle — or by the ULTIMATE healing which is death.
It is so easy to misplace our priorities. We think that being famous makes a person someone we should admire, when so many celebrities are good examples of what is WRONG with our country!
The “little people” are the most important people. They touch our lives in a personal way that celebrities cannot. Celebrities play an important role in our culture and it can be for good or for bad. It is unfortunate that in recent years it seems that most of the roles celebrities play are for the bad. We need more “little people” who make a real difference in our lives.