This morning I woke up to the tragic news of pop icon Whitney Houston’s death. Yes, I realise that hundreds, if not thousands of people die everyday under less shady circumstances, so why should Whitney’s death be any different?
Growing up, I remember singing along to songs like “I Will Always Love You” and “The Greatest Love of All” loudly; in fact, my very first cassette was “Whitney”. I knew all the words to every song and was willing to perform a concert for anyone who listened. Even now, more than a decade later, I think of my childhood every time I hear her voice. Childhood memories are happy memories; my heart warms up whenever I think back.
Being practically grown up now (or should I say being grown up?), listening to artists like Whitney Houston and Michael Jackson (who also passed away not so long ago) are the only way I can hold on to those memories. Hearing that Whitney Houston passed away legitimately upset me – I cried actual tears. It was just another reminder of just how much things have changed – another piece of my childhood, gone.
In an article posted by the Los Angeles Times, it was reported that Houston was found unresponsive at a hotel hours before she was due to perform at Clive Davis’ pre-Grammy Awards party. It was a sad loss to the music industry; she inspired so many – despite her chaotic personal life.
I know this post may come across as lame or corny but I’m a huge Whitney fan – and slightly dramatic. You can be sure that I’ll be playing her greatest hits album on full blast the entire day and singing along at the top of my voice. Her memory (and my childhood, I guess) will live on through her music.