Whitney

Just three hours after Whitney Houston was pronounced dead, her ex-husband, Bobby Brown, took the stage in Tennessee, or somewhere south of reason. Thousands of fans, mostly women, stood and gave a thunderous reception to the man who had opened the door to the self-destruction that marked the last fifteen years of Whitney’s life and turned her voice, a gift from God, into the ravaged voice of a drug addict.

Bobby took the stage and said, “I would like to say, I love you Whitney. The hardest thing for me to do is to come on this stage.” Not so hard that he didn’t do it. And, don’t get me going on the fact that he didn’t even fly out to LA until more than 24 hours after the news, leaving their only child at the hospital from stress by herself.

I don’t wish to be one of those bitter bra-burners who blame it all on the guy. I need my bra, and my fifty-nine years of life have taught me that we are each responsible for our own life. Whitney Houston doesn’t get a pass because she could sing better than any other woman from the last forty years. That doesn’t excuse the fact that there are already signs her daughter may have suffered deeply from the sins of the mother … and the father. She doesn’t get a pass because her music from The Bodyguard got me through the great sadness of realizing the love of my life was not that at all. Nor does she get a pass just because she died so young.

But here is what she does get. She gets my respect for her ownership of both sides of herself. “I am my own best friend, and I am my own worst enemy,” she said in an interview a while ago. I have that quotation on my vision board. I believe that she never hid her failings or her genius from herself. She owned her talent. She owned her failures. Over and over again, she asked the public to look away and leave her to her own devices … or should I say, vices? Most of us have that privacy. We don’t have to read in the newspapers about how badly we messed up, and I’d venture to guess that makes it just a little easier for us to leave our messes behind. So I respect her; not just her music, but her. Owning your own results is the name of the living game, and she did it very well.

So let the bells of sadness toll for those of us who used her voice to fill the voids in our souls. Let her family learn from her mistakes over the coming weeks, and celebrate her successes and her immense talent. Let her music soar loud enough to be heard by everyone, and let’s all forgive her trespasses. Oh, and for God’s sake, can women stop standing and applauding for men who don’t treat us well?

6 comments to Whitney

  • Pat

    Could not agree with you more re: nasty ex husband. What a trip he sent her on. Yes, Whitney is responsible for the choices she made, but being that famous can not be easy. And if the man you love says “I Love You. Try This… See How Much I Love You…” if you are at all insecure, you’re likely to believe his words and try anything… but who knows… the lives of the rich and famous are beyond my understanding…

  • nancy

    I don’t know when I have been so moved. am in tears…

    but, that’s OK – a sort of cleansing and new beginning… God bless us all.. for our sins as well as our gifts that we share

  • Linda

    Thank you and Amen.

  • Sue

    Great piece and oh so true.

  • Loved this post. Beautifully expressed.

    With drugs, alcohol, and other forms of abuse so rampant, one wonders why more help is not offered by agents, handlers, family, and friends. Excuses were made for poor performances, cameras were forbidden from recording odd behavior. But, in the end, I guess, addiction can overwhelm good intentions.

  • julia

    Beautifully said and all so true. May god give her daughter the strength to go forward and make her life the best it can be. She has a tough road ahead and will need all the support from all who love her…

Leave a Reply to Pat Cancel reply

  

  

  

You can use these HTML tags

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>