This is my third and final Michael Jackson post, I promise. But I just cannot, despite my burning eyes from all the tears shed, let this day go by, the day of his most emotional and seamless memorial, without jotting down a few of my many emotions and thoughts tonight.

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Today, I laughed, wept, sang, reminisced, prayed, and danced to the memories, songs and tributes of Michael Jackson. I told my daughter Lily that there was once an amazing singer & dancer who just joined Grandpa Dick in Heaven to be with God. I had her watch her favorite movie, Kung Fu Panda, on the mini-dvd player because I simply had to watch the service as it was happening live--dvr was just not going to cut it for me.

I had to witness this bit of history as it was happening.

And I cried like a baby, from the casket coming in, to the casket going out. I mean seriously, I sobbed. I tried to hold back in front of Lily & Lexi, and SMILE through my tears as Brooke Shields and Jermaine reminded us to do, but I was not very successful. They were both so cute and concerned--Lily asked if I was okay and then asked if I needed a vitamin. And then she and Lexi danced to Jennifer Hudson's remarkable performance of Will You Be There and I wept some more.

The news, and magazine-style shows will be re-capping the day's events ad nausuem, so here is my brief re-cap, before I go rest my weary head.

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HALLELUJAH--WE ARE GOING TO SEE THE KING

An illuminated golden casket

Single-gloved siblings

Maudlin melodies from my past

WILL YOU BE THERE

Celebrities, Hall of Fame athletes, government officials, musicians--tearful, thoughtful, reverent

Witty, gracious, heartfelt, honest, poignant

Swelling voices, hearts and eyelids

HUMAN NATURE

Humanizing eulogies

Humanitarian works

A sharp reminder of my own mortality

GONE TOO SOON

Good-byes, thank yous, glances upwards

Grieving fans, friends and family

A fatherless daughter--the newest member of the club

A spot-lit lone microphone--center stage

An elegent, fitting tribute

A world in mourning for their King of Pop

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A few posts ago I questioned the integrity and choices of Michael Jackson. I pondered how I could revere a man who made such questionable decisions in his life. But today I was reminded why he was my childhood idol and why I feel so moved by his passing. Now I know what I'm going to tell my kids when they grow up and want to know more about him. I will refer to his music, his talent, and his magical moonwalking, but also to his humanitarian works, his efforts in bringing people together, and to WE ARE THE WORLD. The allegations, the circus and the bizarre life choices will hopefully be buried today along with the golden casket so all the GOOD he did for the world will be his legacy; a legacy that is broad and beautiful and boundless.

He left an indelible mark on my life and the world. That is what I know for sure.

Update on Tuesday, July 7, 2009 at 11:44PM by Mary Burt-Godwin

Here is Maya Angelou's poem read by Queen Latifah. This was one of my favorite moments of the service.

"We Had Him"

Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing, now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind.

Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace. Sing our songs among the stars and walk our dances across the face of the moon.

In the instant that Michael is gone, we know nothing. No clocks can tell time. No oceans can rush our tides with the abrupt absence of our treasure.

Though we are many, each of us is achingly alone, piercingly alone.

Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him.

He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.

Despite the anguish, his life was sheathed in mother love, family love, and survived and did more than that.

He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.

We had him, beautiful, delighting our eyes.

His hat, aslant over his brow, and took a pose on his toes for all of us.

And we laughed and stomped our feet for him.

We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing. He gave us all he had been given.

Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana's Black Star Square.

In Johannesburg and Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama, and Birmingham, England

We are missing Michael.

But we do know we had him, and we are the world.

-Maya Angelou

On the evening of December 2nd, 1983 I could not eat my dinner for my tween nervous system was in over-drive. As I anxiously awaited the 8 o'clock hour, my mom popped some Jiffy Pop, while my anticipation mounted. At 7:50pm, I grabbed my pillow and popcorn and made a cozy place for myself on the couch. At 8:00pm I flipped on channel 30 and the follwoing words came on the screen.

Due to my strong personal convictions, I wish to stress that this film in no way endorses a belief in the occult. -- Michael Jackson.

And then history was made, in the form of a red leather jacket, zombies and a record-breaking, trend-setting video.

The next day, and nearly every day for the subsequent six months, my girlfriends and I performed the Thriller dance routine on the grade school playground. And my love for Michael Jackson blossomed into a full-blown obsession.

I adorned my walls with his posters, my jean jackets with his buttons. I cried when his hair caught on fire while filming the Pepsi commerial. I cried when he cried in "She's Out of My Life," and I tried like hell to moon walk (to no avail I might add). I followed and adored every move he made, that is before the nose job, the skin whitening and the Jesus Juice, little boy slumber parties began.

My parents never understood my intense crush on this skinny, shimmery singer with a high-pitched voice and an effeminate demeanor. But they supported me in my passionate love affair by buying me his albums and never complaining while Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' played endlessly on repeat so I could figure out what the hell he was saying.

His music was the soundtrack to my childhood.

When I received the call today from my niece Tiffany saying,"So are you crying over MJ?" my heart sank. Though I hadn't yet heard the news, I knew who she was talking about. There is only one MJ. And I knew in that moment that a living legend had died.

It is a little surreal tonight as I reflect on this legendary, world-renowned entertainer, who my kids will never get to see perform. They will hear of him as an icon, but won't really be able to grasp the breadth of his talents, or the impact his career had on an entire generation or on the music industry as a whole.

I am saddened that his life became a carnival and shudder to think that the allegations against him may be true. But tonight I chose to remember the Michael I grew up loving and listening to. The Off the Wall, Beat It, Bad Michael Jackson who gave me joy and inspiration with his music.

RIP Michael!

Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing. Thanks for all the joy they're bringing. Who can live without it? I ask in all honesty--what would life be? Without a song or a dance what are we? So I say, thank you for the music, for giving it to me. -- Abba

Update on Thursday, June 25, 2009 at 11:32PM by Mary Burt-Godwin

I also am laughing a little, imagining my dad having a total field day in heaven right now: throwing back vodka tonics with Ed, ogling Farah, and wondering what in the hell "all those kids" saw in Michael.

RIP Ed & Farah too!