My motive for beginning this blog was selfish. When Michael Jackson died, and even a year later, I had so many pent up emotions I felt as if I would burst. Tormented by guilt and grief, the readers of this blog and countless friends on Twitter, Facebook and other social media have graciously allowed me to express my emotions; my outrage with the media and certain "fans", my anger over Michael's tragically preventable death, and most of all, my admiration for the man I consider to be the greatest enterainer and humanitarian the world has ever seen.Many of you know that my son Aaron passed away on Valentine's Day. I find myself back to that awful day in June, 2009. The searing pain, the indescribable sorrow, the questions, and intuitive knowledge that Aaron's death was preventable. The tears wax and wane, as it normally goes when someone you love dies. And yet, in the depths of despair, there are rays of light that shine through.
I reached out to you, my MJ family, and informed you of my son's death. I did that because I felt a responsibility to my friends, to not just disappear from Twitter or Facebook without an explanation. The overwhelming response of love and condolence I have received from you has been nothing short of miraculous.
The generosity that the MJ family has shown for me and for my family is far beyond what I can describe to you. Nearly $1400 has been donated to St. Jude's in my child's memory. I truly cannot describe what that means to me, and what that would have meant to my son. The comments on the St. Jude's page have given me peace and solace at a time when I didn't think that was possible. In particular, this comment below touched my heart:
This is what Michael Jackson did for us, my friends. He brought us together, in good times and in the absolute worst of scenarios, to be a family. I am forever indebted to Michael Jackson, and I'm equally indebted to those who have shown love and kindness to me and my son in my darkest hour.
Remember to tell your kids that you love them. Urge them to get medical help for symptoms, even if they resist. My deepest regret is that I did not march Aaron into a sleep apnea center, and force him to get the help he needed. It is nearly impossible to get past that; to move to a place other than a mother who failed their child when he needed her.
I thank each and every one of you for holding my hand at this time. I love all of you, along with Michael, and most of all, I loved my son Aaron, and pray that he is now resting peacefully, holding Michael's hand and waiting for me to arrive.
