I cried…

I have never ever cried while watching something on TV. Not when Bambi’s mom was shot. Not when Mufasa died in the Lion King. Not when I watched the Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. Never ever ever. But I did today.

I was certain that I would be able to make it through the memorial without shedding a tear since I was on a 20-something year no-crying-while-watching-television streak. After all, I didn’t feel heartache over Michael Jackson’s death. How could I? I never really knew him.

But seeing the pain in his daughter really made me cry. I thought about how I would feel if I had lost my dad… and there she is only 11 years old without a father.

And when I watched it again. I cried again. Yes I admit I am PMSing and hormonal. But I think even without a uterus I’d cry.

So after seeing this. I called my dad and told him how much I loved him.

“Michael, when you left us, a part of me went with you. … I will treasure the good times, singing, dancing, laughing. … We will never understand what he endured … being judged, ridiculed. How much pain can one take? Maybe, now, Michael, they will leave you alone.” — Marlon Jackson.