The bittersweet memories of childhood

This is not necessarily a tribute to a dead singer. Just some meandering thoughts from my childhood I'm writing for my sake or whoever loves the innocence of our younger days.
As a child, I only thought about faith and what could be, the good parts of life and hope for a wonderful future. This wasn't because I led a sheltered existence either, I was very emotionally abused and physically too at times. But as a child I had a love for music and literature that helped me transcend the harshness of life. It lifted me above the pain of everyday living. I know this was a gift from my Savior, I have no doubt.
So too I have to weigh in on Michael Jackson's death. I'm heartbroken. Not because of what Michael Jackson became, but because of what he once was to me in my childhood. His music was a big part of lifting me away from the pain and helping me to hang on and have a faith that I wasn't taught by my mother.
What Michael became is much cause for debate. I tend to hope that he wasn't the pedophile that some folks paint him as. I tend to hope the he was very eccentric because of the pain of his own childhood. But I'm not the judge of who he became. I just loved his music. Even as I got older I admired his talent (secretly as not to make my ex mad ;).
But his death shows that he was no God even though to some folks he probably will become one now. He was just a man with many failings.

My tribute is to the bittersweet memories of my childhood. A time when the negative part of the world we live in was in the background and not in the foreground of my mind. A time when I didn't have to worry as much about what could happen because I believed what was best. A time when faith was my survival and music and books were there to comfort me. And a time when I listened to I'll be there over and over and over again on my little 45 records on my small little turntable.