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Goodbye, Cory Monteith

July 28, 2013

No, I am not Lea Michelle; my life won’t fall apart because of Cory Monteith’s passing. I’ll listen to my Glee playlist again, sometime. But not today. I just couldn’t take Cory’s character, Finn Hudson’s gritty, angelic voice coursing through my veins. Lo-sin’- my- re-li-gion. Try-in’- to- keep- up- with- you. It’s playing in my head, anyway. I didn’t know Cory, but I felt like I knew Finn, the sensitive, lead-singer quarterback Gleek he played on the show Glee. My heart was his. In real life, Cory was supposed to be a lot like Finn. Yet, this sweet, awkward, amazingly-talented guy had a horrible demon inside, one he tried to tame by going to drug rehab, but at thirty-one, it killed him anyway. Cory could have had it all. He was an instant star, yet wasn’t comfortable with his own success. A good reminder that not even fame lets us storm the gates of heaven. And movie stars go to the bathroom, too. Glee is the only television show I’ve watched in over thirty years. The incredible singing and dancing makes me recognize the singer and dancer inside of me. Inside myself my body moves and my vocal chords sing, as I watch each week with glee. I loved Finn’s innocence. Could that be why Cory’s death has made me feel such quiet, yet piercing sorrow? It’s as if mourning for him I’m also mourning for myself. If he lured me in this mysterious, penetrating way, then he must be in me, and if he died, then part of me has died, too. I suppose that’s what mourning is like.


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Gail Harris Author