Its totaly valid to feel this sad about the death of someone you never met.


Surprised by how you feel at today’s news? Well so was I.

It started with shock and disbelief and then the tears trickled into a hot sticky torrent. By 11 am I was home alone, blubbing.

I have to confess, the death of David Bowie hit me harder than any family death I have yet to experience (at this point I should add, they have been mercifully few and far between). With elderly relatives I felt sad for the spouses and children they left behind. Today this grief was my own.

I refuse to feel ashamed or embarrassed for feeling intensely sad at the passing of someone I didn’t know personally. I will not dismiss my own feelings. Enough people do that for me.

We have the freedom to choose who, and what, we care about.

Good art transcends the sensory experience. It creates and evoques memories. Hearing a song can pull you back quicker in time than time moves forward. If he accompanied and shaped your upbringing then it is personal. Bowie didn’t belong to me or you, but he lived in little pockets of our lives.

If you want to plaster Facebook with links and tributes, do it. You will feel better. And it’s ok to feel sad when there is one less thing out there to provide colour, escapism and emotional respite.

Someone has left the planet that made a lot of people feel better about being different.

Someone has gone who contributed a lot of beauty to this world.

We won’t be getting one of these again.

If that is not reason enough to be sad, then I don’t know what is.


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Comments ( 1 Comment )

It was good to read this as I thought perhaps my reaction was rather over the top when I read the news at 8am this morning. I promptly burst into tears and when my husband surfaced I could barely speak without dissolving again. I was 60 at Christmas, David Bowie was my first real crush and his music accompanied my teenage years, the getting ready on a Friday night, dotting daisies on my cheeks, pulling on the hotpants and strapping myself into my platform soles. He was there when I had my first kiss in a dark corner of a club, where I had sipped on my underage bacardi and coke, he was there when I had my first holiday without parents. When my boys were old enough to be babysat and I was able to get back into something that wasn’t maternity shaped he told me to put on my red shoes and dance and I did. So many moments of my life are linked to his music and I feel like I have lost a little part of my history today. So I totally get why we cry over someone we have never met because in reality they have held our hand and taken us to some amazing places. I have read a lot of tributes today but one of my favourites tweeted by Sue Perkins just a simple lyrical quote “Planet Earth is Blue” – how very, very true.

Anne-Marie Smith commented on Jan 11 16 at 4:07 pm

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