So as everyone knows by now, Prince died last month. [Sorry, was I supposed to put “Spoiler Alert” somewhere here? I’m new at this, so bear (bare?) with me. OK, just looked it up…bare always means naked, bear does not always mean the animal. So “bear” with me was correct.] Prince! It was a sad, sad day. Although I wasn’t sure why. I say I was a huge Prince fan, as everyone in this world has proclaimed to be over the last couple of weeks, yet I didn’t have one single song of his downloaded onto my phone. I say Purple Rain was one of the BEST movies, but I don’t remember much of it. What I can tell you for sure though is that the feeling of sad was real. But why? So to get at it, I, like millions of others, downloaded his greatest hits album and started listening. [Insert collective high-five clapping sound from all of the “family” that have filed a claim against his estate…more downloads = bigger pot]
On my way to work the next morning I started my private Prince concert in the car. My son James has also professed his love and admiration for Prince, despite the fact that he doesn’t know any of his songs. So we started with 1999, a great song to get the crowd going. “We’re gonna par-tay like it’s nine-teen, nine-D-nine!” Blasting it as we head to his bus stop. The blasting part is a necessary part of the experience because it is a great “get your butt moving” kind of song, but also because we want everyone to know what huge Prince fans we are. If Prince equals cool, and we’re listening to Prince, doesn’t that mean that we are cool too? My logic would say yes.
After dropping James off, I move to Kiss, where I make sure to exaggerate all of the lyrics with a pucker as I sing along. Still be-bopping away, driving a little faster with the music just a touch louder. Then…When Doves Cry. The guitar riff starts and I get out my air guitar and my percussion instruments to get the knocking sound just right.
Next up, Let’s Go Crazy, where he starts his anthem with “Dearly Beloved…We Are Gathered Here Today 2 Get Through This Thing Called Life.” As I mouth the words, I paused after “Life.” But wait, your life is over. You died yesterday. You left without warning. Had I known you were on your way out, I would have bought a ticket to see you. I would have listened more. I would have danced more. I would have sang louder. I want one more chance…it’s too late. I was too late.
Then finally Purple Rain came on and I just lost it. For 8 minutes and 42 seconds I cried. And not a quiet, pretty (purple) tear rolling down my cheek, kind of cry. It was an all out, put your sunglasses on, Chrissy Teigen at the Golden Globes, ug-ly cry. As gorgeous as I envisioned myself just 5 minutes earlier as I was blasting Prince, being cool, speeding down the Bronx River Parkway in my sweet ride, I was now a hot mess with mascara running down my face, crying about a man that I have never met. And then I realized that it wasn’t so much about Prince (sorry Prince), as it was all about ME! Here was someone who (whom?…grammer is not a strong suit of mine) I have never met, and he was able to make such an impression on me through his words and his music.
When I leave this world, what impression will I leave? Will my husband have to install a chain link fence in the front of our house so that my fans can tie their laminated notes, purple mylar balloons, and flowers to it? Will Channel 12 be reporting live from my driveway (guess that depends on how I go)? Will Bryan know how hard I tried (and often struggled) to be the best wife that I knew how(still not sure what that looks like), while at the same time keeping my sense of independence. Will my kids fill their memory banks with laughter, and joy and the feeling of unconditional love, or will they focus on those scaring moments where I wasn’t my best? The days where I just lost my shit, and screamed, and couldn’t pull it together?
As the song ended, so did my ugly cry. “Pull yourself together!” I screamed. As the tears and mascara dried up up on my face, I remembered one of my golden rules…don’t waste my time trying to change things that are out of my control. Growing up with an alcoholic father, this was a hard one to learn. I wanted my Dad to be a nicer person, I wanted him to be fun to be around, I wanted him to see me as my own person and not as my Mom’s mouthpiece. But he didn’t. And I learned that that was not on me, it was all on him. I can’t change him, so I stopped trying.
I know now that when things are going good, I shouldn’t live with the fear that the other shoe is going to drop. When I am being myself, I shouldn’t worry so much that someone might be judging me (99% of the time it is someone who’s opinion I couldn’t care less about). And when I need help, I should be confident in asking for it and not worrying that I am seen as weak. It all makes sense and sounds easy on the surface, but it is not. Every time I make a decision as to which way to go, it adds to my character, it adds to my story, it adds to the memories that others will have of ME.
So Dearly Beloved…Let’s Get 2 This Thing Called “Life,” and start living like we want to be remembered.