June 25th, 2009 is a day I'll never forget—and the pain that I experienced that day will live in me forever. I know they say "time heals all wounds," but this is one wound that I and many others around the globe feel so profoundly. This particular wound will take a lifetime to heal—if ever. As many of you know, our beloved Michael Jackson's death was pronounced at 2:26 pm (PDT/California Time) on June 25th, 2009. It was a day I thought I'd never experience. To me, Michael has always been around, and his passing away was unfathomable. Even after the official announcement of his death, it still hadn't registered with me until several hours later.
June 25, 2009, was a gorgeous day on the east coast (where I reside), and I was chatting with a friend about how I wanted to make these special sequin gloves to wear to Michael's "This is it" concert. Our spirits were high, and we couldn't wait till we touched down in London. It all seemed like a dream! We would soon finally get to see the one and only "King of Pop." It would have been my third time seeing Michael in the flesh but my first time seeing him perform an entire concert. In the past, I attended the "United We Stand" benefit show, and I saw him in 2004 (to read more about that experience, click the following link (https://www.breakodawnclub.com/post/about-moi-my-hobbies-and-seeing-michael-jackson-live-in-the-flesh). However, for some of my friends, it would have been their first time seeing him. The night tickets went on sale for "This is it," we all set our alarms and woke up at an insane hour to buy tickets. But ultimately, we resorted to purchasing tickets from Viagogo because we didn't want nose bleed seats—tickets sold out super fast everywhere.
During the months leading up to June, I never had an inkling that Michael wouldn't perform those shows. However, some of my friends thought differently. Some felt those shows weren't going to happen—I've heard quite a few state this. And it wasn't because they felt he couldn't do the shows; they indicated that something just didn't feel right. Even I got an "off vibe" about the announcement. When Michael referred to the show as the final curtain call, I felt an incredible sadness overcome me—and it wasn't because they were his last shows. The man had been performing since he was a child, and he deserved to relax and do whatever he wanted finally. I wanted to see him enjoy the second half of his life, raise his kids, and direct films—something he had his eyes and heart sat upon. But back to that sorrowful day.
After I got off the phone with my friend, I was on my way to teach my dance class when I got a call from my little cousin. When she told me Michael was in the hospital, my heart dropped. I was crossing a busy street, and I quickly got off the phone with her to check the radio. Back in those days, phones didn't connect to the internet like today; I had a Nokia. Indeed, my cousin must have been playing a cruel joke on me, I thought? But no—she hadn't. When I turned on the radio, I immediately heard an MJ song. When I turned to another station, the DJ announced that Michael was in a coma. Again, I didn't and couldn't believe this. I was in a "controlled-panic" and praying that maybe he had tired himself while practicing and was dehydrated. Being that I was distraught, I never went to teach my dance class. Instead, I hopped in a cab, and one of my good MJ pals called me. She was crying, and I was trying to keep her calm, all while the cab driver kept repeating over and over, "He's dead," in a cold tone. And when he told me that, I told him to "be quiet and drive." I didn't mean to be rude, but he could see that I was visibly upset. His words were unnecessary and insensitive.
When I finally arrived home, I immediately turned on the news. My friend was crying a lot, and I kept trying to console her. At that point, I hadn't cried yet because I was trying to stay strong for her and keep my brain clear for when I would go onto the MJ forums to console other fans as well. In addition to a few other MJ pals of mine who phoned me during that time—a few family members I hadn't spoken to in years called, and I hung up on them. I hung up on them because these were the same people who had been disrespectful towards Michael and then decided to call me, which I found not right at all. To this day, I haven't spoken to those family members. I know some might think that's extreme, but I'm incredibly grateful for Michael and his music—he saved my life. I won't get into that right now, but it's a possibility I might not be here today if I wasn't an MJ fan.
As I continued to watch the news in a shell-shock, I suddenly yelled, "who was with him?" I got a feeling that someone else was in the room when Michael died, and sure enough, we learned of "you know who"—I'm not even going to mention his name. After that, I logged onto MJJF (A big MJ Forum at that time), some of us grieved together in Paltalk (chatroom). We even had to tell an MJ vocal impersonator not to speak because his voice was too painful to listen to.
All that evening, I kept searching for what exactly happened to Michael because things were so confusing, and to be honest—they still are. Many theories continue to swirl about Michael's death—and there are people I feel should have been investigated more thoroughly—but that's another topic for another day.
Later that night, after I logged off the MJ Forums, I laid in bed and cried non-stop. After I finally drifted off into a deep slumber, I dreamed of Michael—I've always dreamed about him a lot before and after his passing. One day, I'll share that dream... It was intense and sad but also comforting.
After a long night of crying in my sleep, I called into work the following day. When my supervisor answered the phone, she said, "it's ok... Stay home." She knew how much I loved Michael, and she was always supportive of him and the Jackson family.
Well, I'll end this now. I know this might have seemed like I was rambling, but this is the first time I've written an in-depth personal experience about the day our Angel, Michael, went home to rest—it was very therapeutic and cathartic. As for many MJ fans, the days leading up to June 25th are extremely hard for me, and with each passing year, it never gets easier.
In closing, I leave you with a few pictures of the lovely flowers me and a few of my close MJ pals sent to Michael at Forest Lawn. I know these are only flowers, but they are a token of love and appreciation. As Michael's spirit walks among the many flowers sent to him from all across the globe, I hope he feels the immense love his fans have for him.
To Michael: I love you, sweetheart. Rest in paradise. You are forever loved and sorely missed. 💕👑🌻🌹🕊️