“Michael Jackson died”….the text message read on my cell phone. It was sent by my friend Linda. Linda was a huge fan of Michael Jackson so I am sure it was all she could do before she turned on the tv for the news.  CNN still was not reporting that he was dead; it was unconfirmed. Still, the news was shocking and today, the morning after, it is still difficult to believe. As I see the photo with the dates under it, it is still a stark realization.
As the news unfolded, I was checking my face book and there they were…minutes after, there were the ugly, crass jokes. Trust me, as a mother, it never sat well with me that Michael Jackson was accused of child molestation and made a mockery of our legal system. He was bizarre. His fathering, what we saw of it, was always in question. As long as Michael Jackson was dancing under the disco ball of crazy by himself, of course, we could point and laugh. And then, Michael Jackson started to drag children into all the weirdness. How could we turn away…many did, some from discomfort, some from denial.
Michael Jackson was tortured. The one abuse there are witness to was that between him and his father. Michael Jackson’s father was driven and that drive caused him to abuse his child. A weak mother never saved him. His career isolated him. Yes, a tortured soul.
I take issue with Michael Jackson and the people he bought off. Mothers who sold their children. People who sold their silence. Doctors who wrote prescriptions. Family members who turned away from his bad behaviour and took money while their own niece and nephews were possibly abused.
Clearly he was tortured and he continued with that cycle and left behind unanswered questions and lives in chaos.  Maybe he was innocent. Maybe he was bought off. We will never know.
What we do know is that there are 3 children left not only fatherless, but quite possibly parent-less. I pray the same circle of weak people will find the strength to protect, raise and guide these children. But I know that the craziness has only started.