Sophie’s birthday falls in the middle of April and this year we ended up celebrating three different times, each with a different group of people. We started with dinner at Hu-Hot, her favorite restaurant, with Jason’s family, then had a sleepover with friends, and finally we celebrated with my family. Lots of cake, lots of presents, and a very loved Sophie.
Also this week, 2016 claimed another musician far too soon.
PL 2016 – Prince
It seems I’ve listened to Prince my entire life and his passing was unexpected. He was such an amazing talent, a phenomenal guitar player (how did I not understand what a gifted guitarist he was?!?), and so very much more. The world is a little less audacious without him.
I wanted to honor Prince in my PL album as I’ve done with many of those we’ve lost in 2016, but I struggled to find a way to truly capture how I felt. Until I found these amazing words from Christina Garner, who was kind enough to let me borrow them for my tribute.
“My grief over Prince is surprising me. Not that I’m grieving, but the depth and breadth of it.
I’m listening to his music non-stop, reveling more in his lesser-known work than I’d have thought possible. I’m gobbling up anecdotes and stories as a lifeline to a man I never met, but now more than ever wish I had.
Rock stars carry a heavy load: the collective dreams, most of them unexpressed, of all of humanity. When one dies, especially one as genius, talented, and prolific as Prince, we begin to question not only our own mortality but our impact and legacy. Are we living life to the fullest? Are we expressing our gifts? We see an example of someone who most certainly was and begin to question our life choices.
And then there’s just the pain of it. The abject, raw pain of losing such a talent. And our personal pain—the knowledge that whether we never got around to seeing him in concert or saw him a hundred times, the opportunity of just one more is lost forever.
And we hope he knew. How loved, how talented, how appreciated and needed he was and will continue to be. Because what all of us want in our deepest souls is to be seen. To be understood. And that’s why we project so much of ourselves onto musicians. Because they sing our pain and our dreams and our love. They hold it and express it in a way that few others can.
Life is this fragile, resilient, unknowable mystery. No one embodied that more than Prince, with his small frame and large presence. His need to be seen and yet hide.
Words fail me but it’s just as well. There’s nothing I could say that Prince didn’t say himself, and better. I don’t know if I believe in an afterlife, but Prince did. And if ever there were anyone who could will something into existence—someone who, if the rumors are true, would never accept “no” or “impossible” for an answer—it would be him. So I trust that right now he is in a world of never ending happiness where he can always see the sun, day or night.
Thank you, Prince, for giving your life to us so that we might know ourselves a little better, and for keeping so much of it for yourself, so that there was always more to give.”
Page Construction Notes
- Becky Higgins Picturesque Core Kit designed by Heidi Swapp
- Becky Higgins Design A Page Protectors
- Heidi Swapp Wood Veneer and Stickers
- Acrylic stars from Color Cast Designs
- Purple and metallic copper card stock
- Vellum photo mat and border from Creative Memories
- Stamp from Studio Calico by CD Muckosky