A Call For Compassion

So you are not a drug addict. Good for you! Neither am I. We are united in that holier-than-thou circle of straight (so-to-speak), sober and intelligent people. We are so good. How fortunate we are that we do not suffer from such crippling insecurities and external pressures that we succumb to drugs and alcohol.
Does this mean we can't have compassion for those who do? Does this mean when a legend dies we should gloat? "They chose their life."
Good for you. You've expressed yourself. You are now even more superior to the junkies.

When I was a teenager, Whitney Houston entranced me. She was the voice of my generation. I would sit in my car and belt out her songs, trying to match her inflections and, believe it or not, pitches. I wouldn't try that today. Last weekend, upon hearing of her death, I tuned Pandora to the Whitney station and sang along to "Where Do Broken Hearts Go", "How Will I Know" and, the one that made me fall in love, "Savin' All My Love For You." I couldn't believe I still remember all those songs so well. I never bother to learn lyrics to pop music anymore. That's a testament to the power of that music.
Yes, I know there are thousands upon thousands of people suffering from drug and alcohol addiction. And, sadly, many die every day. That doesn't make this any less sad. It truly hurts my heart when I read callous comments about Whitney's death as if she deserved to die. Nobody knows what she endured in her life but her. I can imagine that she had a pretty difficult time considering she was thrust into celebrity at 18 years old, and I seriously doubt that anyone in her life was concerned with her physical and emotional strength. She was a commodity and was worked as such. I don't know how that feels. In all my dreams of celebrity, I have never been able to truly relate to that feeling (although my imagination runs wild with it).
I mourn her loss not because of her celebrity status but because I grew up with her music. Her talent was inimitable. No one came close. No, we are not related. I never even met her, but that feeling of kinship is still there. As a performer, I know that we all dream of being able to make a life using our talent. Most of us will never see that become as lucrative a reality as we dream. But imagine if you could. We are all human, and we all have our limits. How would we deal with being a marketing machine day and night, having it not just be a recreation but a requirement to socialize, to schmooze, to promote ourselves on very little sleep and probably no companionship or moral support? I know that would be a struggle for me. And then imagine hooking up with a person who is even needier and more messed up than you!
We have all made decisions that we regret, and we usually learn from those experiences and try to move ahead in a more positive, productive way. But some people are on such a fast track they never get back ON track.
I am sorry that junkies die every day. I am sorry that there are hundreds of homeless, sick and addicted people all over Portland that have nothing. But this person touched me. This person's voice was with me for thirty years of my life. So the loss of this person is extra sad.
I feel sad for people who cannot express compassion when a famous life is lost. Why not? Why shouldn't we? Because they had fame and fortune and blew it? So that makes it less of a loss. So we better ourselves by judging them and their choices? And that improves the situation?
How would you feel if you had a brother, sister or kid who battled drug addiction for thirty years and, when they died, people posted comments like "Well, they chose that life. They had it coming." Really? Even if you agree with that, do you want to read it? Does it make you feel better about their passing? Does it justify negative comments about them after they're gone? Not to me it doesn't. Anyone who knows me knows my love for inappropriate comments. I can verbally bash with the best of 'em. I love to hate on Gwyneth. Do I truly hate Gwyneth? Of course not. Does she deserve to be bashed? Well, maybe. But if she died eating Mario Batali's cooking, I wouldn't say "Well, she died as she lived." There's no need to be callous. It doesn't accomplish anything. It won't discourage your Facebook friends from following in the dead person's footsteps. No one is looking to you for words of judgment. God is not impressed by your level of critical thinking and moral superiority. In fact, no one is.
This Valentines Day, my wish is that people will think before reacting dispassionately to a celebrity's death. Can we try not to be jealous of what they had and gloat in what was wasted during their life? Can we just mourn the loss, and even mourn the loss they experienced when they lived?
Whitney Houston was far from perfect. So are you. Any life lost through drugs and alcohol is a waste. So it is a waste to not appreciate what that life gave us when it was here on earth.