If you didn’t grow up living and breathing Pittsburgh, you’ll never know the excitement of someone making your home a symbol. You’ll never understand hearing about someone coming up in the world you grew up in and sharing the excitement of an entire city when they finally do. You’ll never be able to imagine bumping what would be the album of the Summer, and it coming from someone who lives not even a full 15 minutes away from you. I know it sounds dumb, but I don’t think there’s really a word to describe the kind of hope that brings to you and everyone around you. But when you lose that spark, that shining example, your world crumbles, literally.
For those of you who can’t grasp why this death has affected so many, you’ll never fully get what it’s like to see your childhood parks and communities literally darken at the loss of that life. And if that’s not enough, Pittsburgh has seen so much loss in these past few months, it feels like a curse.
Now I won’t sit here and say Pittsburgh has it the worst and I won’t speak on Mac Miller as if I were some insane fan. I like his music and I liked his vibe. But above that, I along with hundreds of thousands of people, feel a surge of pride when someone so impactful hails from the same home you do and actively sends the message that we can make it, as long as we try.
His death has left a scar on our city. Not because it’s more important but because a lot of us thought we had more time. A lot of us, are unfortunately seeing, that we never have enough time. And regardless if it was on accident or on purpose, his death has left more questions than answers and at the young age of 23, death still has a way of making me feel feeble and minute.
It’s affected those of us that can’t come home for weeks. We had to watch his vigil on a snap or a tweet, if we got to see it at all. We had to see yet another of our home landmarks, both celebrated and mourned as the city faces yet another loss.
My home, the home I share with so many more wonderful people have to watch yet another light burn out too soon. Our landmarks, like the glorious Frick Park with blue slide, the park so many of us grew up playing at, will become yet another hollow memory of loss and another reminder that our time on this planet is short. Live in peace today guys, tomorrow is never promised.