Celebrity deaths rarely phase me. A few do. Very seldom do they hit an emotional chord.
The unfortunate tragedy that was the death of Malcolm Jamal Warner hit a chord.
Like many, The Cosby Show was my childhood. It was the first show where the television screen felt relatable. People of color. A family from Brooklyn. Scenarios that mirrored my home.
“Theo Huxtable” was a part of that.
You don’t ever realize it when you’re young. But you let some of these characters in your homes, then into your subconscious…and they live with you forever.
So many memorable scenes and moments still carry on. Still inspire. That still makes my stomach rumble with laughter in mere thought, and more so in rewatching them.
Even beyond the character, MJW’s poetry, of which I discovered and came to enjoy just recently, moved me the way Theo did.
I'm on the mend/ my need is to love me/ and tend to my self care/ hiding in plain view/ is just me choosing how much of my soul/ I'm willing to share.
Even beyond the man behind the character, it hurts from the perspective of a father. The way Kobe’s death really gripped me for more than his basketball legend.
54 is too young. So young. And a reminder, this life is a blur. And to learn that his 8-year-old daughter survived the same rip current, and must now live with that experience…without her dad. For the rest of her life.
Heartbreaking. Crushing.
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Regardless of the controversy that now comes with it, I’ll forever love The Cosby Show. It takes me back. It grounds me. It inspires me. And it’s a lynchpin for this kid discovering himself in a world around him that wasn’t always present in the art immediately accessible.
MJW's talents opened that door for me. And very likely, for so many others.
Bootleg Gordon Gartrell shirts, forever.