I can remember being a kid, living on Ithan Street in Philly and everyday, hour on the hour, my mom would play Whitney Houston’s debut CD and dance around with her curly hair thinking she was Whitney herself and singing songs off-tune as if she could hit every note like the songbird herself.
My mom LOVED Whitney Houston and still does and her love and affection for the singer rubbed off on me as a young girl. Whitney was statuesque and beautiful. And she looked like everything I wanted to be. I was a skinny kid and always picked on by my peers. I wanted to be like Whitneywho exuded confident and she was glamorous and it seemed she was everybody’s golden girl. Living the life we all seemingly wanted to emulate.
So it saddens me so very much to know she died yesterday February 11th, definitely far too early to be taken from us all. She was soaring again in her life and had just finished up a revision of the movie Sparkle and was living and loving life and had resurfaced looking healthy and well after years of living a troubled life that I won’t even rehash because the past is the past.
I mourn for her mother Cissy, her relatives, Aunt Dionne Warwick and my God, her young daughter Bobbi Kristina. I still have my mother here on earth and even as I approach 40 years old, can’t imagine going on in life without my mom who is my dear friend.
So I know the hurt and pain runs deep for Cissy too who has lost a child. My husband lost his oldest son two years ago and still it’s a cut and a hurt that will never be healed, especially when a child has gone too soon.
Our dear sister Whitney Houston is gone, but not forgotten, NEVER forgotten. RIP and let’s keep her family in our prayers.