I thought of the many songs I had heard that voice sing as I sat down and reached for a glass of water; after all I was still trying to understand how such an icon could suddenly be gone.
“In this country no one cares about you. These stars have money but they’re not happy, they are very lonely and miserable people. “ Lauren responded “It just makes you realize how short life is.”
“Let this be a lesson to all women, that you need to be careful when it comes to who you marry and end up with.” I said leaning in for another bite of the fried calamari.
“I blame Bobby. He was the worst thing that could happen to her.” Monica replied, reaching for the spring rolls.
“You can’t just blame him.” Grace responded
“You’re right, we make our own decisions, but imagine what she could have been.” I sighed.
“She did a lot with the life she had.” Donna said, raising her head up as though talking to God.
“Some people don’t do that much in one life.” I replied.
We were sitting for an all girls Valentine’s celebration and had just heard the news of Whitney Houston’s death. Having been an eighties baby, I felt that Whitney had something to do with my upbringing as did most of my girlfriends. We began to tweet, change Facebook statuses, and Google plus our feelings. A sister had just died, and we were in pain- questioning marriage, sisterhood, and the life of a career woman.
I remembered her music as something that got me through difficult times. For one she had been included as one of my go to artists after the boyfriend breakups. In college a friend and I often blasted The Greatest Hits CD throughout the night before hitting the student lounge for the weekend campus party as we decided on what to wear and how late was fashionably late.
Here I was refusing to accept she was a part of her demise, and the lose of her voice now seemed so distant as we tried to remember her life before Bobby, imagining the heavenly sounds often heard only by the few in churches.
“God I pray that never happens to me, marrying an addict.” I said.
“Girl, I’ll kill you!” Grace shrieked.
“You wouldn’t do it- please. Imagine answering to us!” Lauren screamed. We laughed. Answering to each other always seemed more difficult.
“No, I couldn’t imagine wanting a man that bad.” I said “Especially enough to have to bring him around you guys. You would be like “What’s wrong with him? He’s twitching?!” No thank you!”
I realized we were like a circle, and very few entered. I thought, if this were work this company would have the highest retention rate.
We spent the night laughing about our problems at work, as four of us were African immigrants and felt we were misunderstood in a country that didn’t take the time to often understand its immigrants. Our two African American friends talked about similar problems of not being heard as women at work. We joked about finding love at the oddest places and losing it all, and how God was still working on something magical for even those not willing to compromise. Through it all we knew this magical gift from God had to be approved by a circle of girls, some perhaps more critical then our own family members.
Ironically this was only half of the circle and we wondered if we should call our sisters in other states, what they were doing, and if they had a Valentine. The thought of everyone getting together brought laughter and joy to the celebration, often imagining how so and so would respond to certain situations. We spent way too long trying to figure out the bill and joked about how a man would have gotten so fed up with us he would have probably just paid the bill.
“It’s okay,” I replied “Just recruit a mathematician for next year.”
We had very different personalities, from the serious, cautious, funny, witty, and unapologetic. We also had pasts that intertwined in ways we knew and didn’t know. We texted and called at odd times, often to send words of encouragement or vent, or laugh so hard we had to stop eating during breaks from work. As the night ended we joked about a slumber party, late night talks, and the idea of meeting again next year for Valentine’s Day. I laughed at our selfishness- planning another single year for each other. Between hugs, personal updates, and a promise from those heading home alone to text or call when they arrived, I realized that even in America someone cares about you.
As we walked out into the brisk Chicago weather, I knew we would all do a lot with the life we have and Whitney’s voice came to mind again as quickly as I had forgotten it. I thought of this sound rarely heard by many, and knew it was now being heard in heaven.
Girl You Black 