He Can Still Make Me Smile - Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson. He can still make me smile. He can still make the tears fall down my face. Through his music. It was and always will be his music.

Many people have blogged about Michael Jackson and what he meant to them. I refrained from doing so myself probably because of that. But after watching his touching memorial service today, I was moved to write.

There have been many famous faces and personalities that have passed on. I remember when John Lennon passed away while I was at Stanford. Several students grieved. I didn’t understand it. I mean, they couldn’t have known the guy personally, how could it affect them so? I remember when Princess Diana died in a car accident. It was sad, I know. I was moved by the grief everyone showed not her actual passing. How could I? I never knew her, nor would I ever have met her.

But Michael Jackson is now gone. I never knew him. I only knew his music. I knew of his life through the media and as we all know, cannot trust everything said or written about him. I ignored the stories and him over the last many years. But not his music. If I ever needed a pick-me-up, I’d throw the Jackson 5 on my CD player (now iPod) or play Beat It or Dancing Machine or well, you name it (so many to choose from).

I watched the Michael Jackson Memorial Service and it was beautifully done. This program was a wonderful tribute - it covered the music he either sang, created or collaborated on throughout his life. I was happy to know that I knew them all…and wanted to hear more. I learned some things, too. I didn’t know he was in the Guinness Book of Records for the most monies given to charities by a pop star. I’d heard about his trips to Africa and around the world but didn’t remember the details. The memorial ended with “Heal the World,” a song that never fails to bring a smile to my face. It gratified me to know there were so many people that held a special place in their hearts for Michael Jackson regardless of the ridiculous amount of gossip that has come about over the years. It hurt my heart to watch his daughter emotionally declare her love for her dad and break down in tears at the end.

But why did his passing affect me like this? I think that like many other people of my generation, I felt as if I “grew up” with him. His music was always in the periphery, a tangential part of many phases of my life. My husband doesn’t really get this. Perhaps for him, it would be another musician. But for me, though I didn’t know Michael Jackson, his life and his passing were very personal. Perhaps it’s appropriate that I watched the memorial alone, free to remember how much Michael Jackson’s music touched me, free to let the tears fall without feeling embarrassed about it.

I sometimes wonder if my own daughters will ever identify so closely with another musician’s work as they grow older. These past few days, my daughters have been asking me to tell them stories from when I was a kid. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with something interesting. But now, I think I remember a few.

I will always remember a little 6-year-old me in a quiet deserted family room carefully lifting a Jackson 5 LP onto the turntable, setting the needle down and waiting. The first notes play, a smile crosses my face and I begin to move. It was joy. Pure. Simple. Joy. Thank you, Michael Jackson. God bless and keep you.

Original Silicon Valley Moms Blog post.

While MommyTwinGirls recounts her Michael Jackson memories to her girls, you can find her at It's Never Easy But It's Always Fun, recounting the unique challenges and joys of raising her twins at Mad About Multiples and posting samples of her work from her latest photo shoots at Solheim Photography.

Photo credit: From an album in Mommytwingirls' collection.