Months after the passing of Michael Jackson, I find myself back at the computer, googling the latest news and then flipping though pictures of his children. While it is true that I am a huge fan, and even more so after his untimely passing, the pull today is his children.
Unable to put thoughts of the now parent less trio behind me, I drift to YouTube to watch clips. as the pictures scroll past, my mind drifts. I find myself wondering what memories the youngest of the children, Blanket, will have of his father years from now. I compare my own loss of 3 grandparents at a young age; and the strands of memories that have been filtered through the years. The realization that the majority of the memories are vague with gaping holes, like a spider's web that has been loosed from it's moorings.
While fans have their memories, and often share them with other fans, Michael's children don't have the luxury of exchanging memories with millions. Even if that were to happen, these children lost their father -- not some icon that echoes a lifetime of dreams. The cold truth of the matter is that Blanket, in all likelihood, will retain only fractured memories of his beloved father. Such a sad thought for one so young.
