Passing on the Legacy - Learning to Live with Fame

Standing beside a man whose name is a household word at a funeral may not make you famous, but it gives you a sense of the familiar. Not so long ago, I held the hand of a friend who had dared to redress his popularity and hide among the multitudes in plain sight of the press. We'd attended the funeral of a dear friend, with press cameras popping, microphones stuck in our faces and the daring young journalists attempting to capture the essence of fame in tears.

He stood quietly, ignoring the cameras, ignoring the microphones, and paying no attention to agents of the press who attempted to smother him.

Later in the quiet stillness of a darkening night, I felt his hand on my shoulder and held him in my arms as he cried. No tears had been shed earlier, and I knew --- his silence had been intended for the press. Strength of character dominated his stature in public, but his strength left him unguarded in the quiet hours.

His legacy is passing, but the man stands strong. How could he live with the fame that stole his identity, placed him on a stage through the wee hours of the morning, and left him stressed and overburdened through the rest of the day. He lingered in that safe quiet stillness, hanging on to my shoulder. Sanity, all wrapped up in the significance of silence and tears... We held on to the memory of days and years passed by, when fame didn't shadow his every step and the person who filled his shoes wasn't the most sought after celebrity on the evening news.

The moment passed and he rode away on his great white horse (a stretch limousine with a driver) as I stood waving into the moonlight. A coyote howled in the distance, a bat flew through the moon rays and life continued on, one more moment after another, until the dawn arrived, with fingers of light spilling over the hillside and tear drops dried on my shoulder.

Tonight, with tear filled eyes, I remember... God bless you, my friend.