It’s been a year since Prince departed from this planet and transitioned into Spirit. Yet, for many of us, it seems like yesterday.
For some, that’s simply due to the fact that the grief process is ongoing. The pain many still feel is very real, valid and raw. For that handful, Prince was so much more than a musician, an artist or celebrity. He was and is family.
And, as such, acceptance is a stage yet to be achieved.
A little over a year ago, I penned a personal tribute explaining this publicly-perceived phenomena. I discussed the lost child – one of five roles in a dysfunctional family – and how lost children escape the pain and dysfunction in their homes via video games, books, movies and/or music. They then tend to attach to any characters, movie stars, artists and/or musicians as substitute family members. And, consequently, when any of the above leave this Earth, an almost unbearable and inexplicable grief process begins.
As a one-time lost child myself, it is something I understand all too well—the concept of imaginary friends, fantasy family members and life-long experiences with grief and loss. Of course, I also share an immense love for Prince.
Somehow, Prince intimately understood the concept of the lost child (and all the quirks that accompany that role). His music, mysterious behavior and the words he spoke in rare interviews certainly exhibit that possibility. Based from everything I know of him and what I have learned since his transition, I can say that it is likely he was a lost child too.
According to information released after his departure, he certainly witnessed his share of dysfunction growing up. After being kicked out at the age of twelve and forced to live with friends, he buried himself in music, seeking the solitude of a basement bedroom where he created a makeshift studio that would serve to launch his career. Prince then went on to be the champion spokesperson for lost children everywhere; he was our hero.
In fact, Prince often referred to his fans as friends, giving everyone who attended his shows, admired his music and followed his life and career the same respect he’d give a trusted confidant. Maybe in that way, if Prince indeed resonated with the role of lost child, we were his fantasy family members—people he didn’t actually know or share biological traits with but who understood, supported and connected with him on a soul level.
Regardless, his Spirit has certainly remained.
As a Prince fan (or friend), I can certainly say he was and is an evolved soul who always spoke of and sang about the afterworld and spirituality. So, no matter what the media might say, he’s still very much here today and more accessible to each of us than ever before.
In honor of this fact, I have written “The Sky Was All Purple: A Collection of Love for Prince,” released today, April 21, to celebrate the man on the anniversary of his transition. It contains stories of love and gratitude from people who have also been touched by Prince and continue to resonate with the Lost Child’s perspective on his loss. For those of us who loved him like family, the sky was and still remains purple.
You can purchase a copy of “The Sky Was All Purple: A Collection of Love for Prince” by Toshia Humphries on Amazon.