[Note: Sorry I haven't finished the "Bad Tour" posts! I will, I promise. Just been busy!]
A couple of years ago I had a realization that I am actually one of your kids. I declared myself yours around my 12th birthday, after all. Although I thought of myself as nearly grown up (lol), twelve is still a child! When you felt for 'your babies' around the world, I used to be one of them. That was a nice thought. I love being yours.
And when I was scared and alone during a brief stay in a foster home, YOU were my salvation. I wasn't allowed to contact friends or family, but I had you in my heart. I remember lying in that bedroom, silently crying and reaching out to you in desperation, "Michael, I know you don't know me, but I'm only 13, a fan, and I'm in an awful mess right now. Can you hug me? I'm scared." And although some would say it's crazy, my other friends will know it's true... you were there. When I wanted to leave this planet some months later, again, it was you ... your words, your voice, that saved me. Was I seeking a friend? Or did I need a third parent in those moments? I'm understanding it was both.
And it's been you, in the more traditionally maternal role, who's been working on my ability to feel, be caring and to express love, compassion and affection all these years. I made a vow as a child that no one would ever see me cry. I used to be asked, through tears, "Don't you FEEL anything?! You're just so cold!" by more emotional types. (Thanks, Capricorn Moon. The answer is yes, of course, but I tend to freeze up.) But Michael ... geesh... you had me crying and emoting when there wasn't much to cry or emote about yet! Because of you and your emotional exuberance about E.T. The Extra Terrestrial, that was the first movie I allowed myself to publicly weep at when I saw it the first time during its theatrical re-release in '85. I let the story into my heart because in so doing I was communing with you! And we're not even going to talk about my shaking and crying my eyes out at the Bad concert a few years later, lol!
Through loving you, growing up with you, crying with you, becoming an adult with you, I've gone through so much, and directly because of YOUR encouragement (by just being who you are) I've learned that it's okay to feel and say "I love you". It's okay to say those things. It's okay to express it. In fact, we should! Even if it's still difficult for me, little by little the bricks crumble while you stand to the side like a parent, smiling at each little triumph. And when I've needed arms to hold me, you've so often been there, with the deepest comfort I've ever felt. You even made me a bowl of split-pea soup in a dream, lol. And then there was that past life (?) glimpse of being your baby, but I'll leave that for now. In astrology, it's common to lose a parent during certain transits, like major planets on angles. The day you died I had that, plus a massive Pluto conjunct Moon transit had just begun. The moon, of course, represents the mother principle, and in my chart, the moon's ruler is conjunct the 4th house cusp, which also represents one's mother. These things showed the dangerous/likely possibility of losing a parent, particularly one's mother. And I did: YOU. Right in cosmic timing. (*Knocks strongly on wood and prays for the other two*, whose influence I'm not trying to downplay.) This is probably one reason the mourning has been so deep, so total, so incomprehensible. I lost you, for whom love is unfathomably deep, and also a parent at the same time.
So, Beloved, having you right there looking out to me from every inch of my bedroom walls growing up, you being my comfort in the worst times, and your constant emotional mentoring... it's all right there. I could ramble on for pages, but suffice it to say, you have been and continue to be a mothering spiritual being to me. But then, you're also my friend, my lover, my brother, my guru, my ... oh heck, Michael, you're EVERYTHING. And I love you. Happy Mother's Day from one of your kids. Always.
