Houston, We Have A Problem....

As of late, people have had their panties in a twist(wad sounded gross) because Whitney Houston is getting much attention in death. I, on the other hand, cannot hear enough, or see enough about the darling angel. Sure she was an addict, a crack ho, an alcoholic, whatever you choose to call her, but she was also someones baby girl, friend, mother, sister and my friend. My friend is a stretch, but there is love in my heart for her. She lost her voice, literally, and lost her life at her own hands. She was devoured by demons, from the inside out. Bad choices were made. Broken without a voice, is a horrible way to die, I think? The struggle of addiction, is all to near to my family. My precious Ward died at the age of 25, with a syringe next to his body, and we celebrate his life all day everyday, with JOY and LOVE.
When Whitney lived in Atlanta, many a time, our paths crossed. Once outside a flower shop, I had her sign my bunch, (above photo). At that time, I came home and bawled like a baby, telling my family that she was gone. Her instrument was used up, and no serenade would we be hearing anytime soon, that was nine years ago.
On Saturday I will be at "church" with the Houston's, via my TV or computer, maybe both, to send her home. That voice filled with the breath of heaven, repaired and whole.
One of her many songs, "How will I know?"keeps playing over in my head. "How will I know when somebody loves me?" You will know, I promise.