Because of you, Charles, I lived. I am your miracle, and you are mine.

Thank you with love to Charles Aznavour

When I faced death myself, it wasn’t that difficult… not like hearing the words that Charles Aznavour passed away or while witnessing his funeral today. His death is impossible to believe…

Let your body go wherever it has to go, but your soul and your voice are eternal, immortal. Your voice is still mine. It’s true I will miss you––your presence, your concerts, your sense of humor.

But, as I struggle to make sense of this tragic day, I have found that I will be able to endure the absence of the body only by listening to your everlasting voice as I always did all the hours of my days, all the days of my life. 

I loved you more than anything and anyone in this world. You were my great healer. I’m thrilled that I had the chance to meet you many times and tell you how much You meant to me.

You are not just an artist, and I am not only a fan. You were my oxygen.

I breathed in your music which brought life into my chemo-filled veins and brain. You brought life back into my body with your golden voice and were my only companion during intense 5-hour long chemotherapy sessions years ago . Your songs so touched my heart that cancer could never penetrate.

Your voice saved my life.

I travelled all over the world to see you under all different conditions, even during intense struggles. Yet these things had no power over me. I found the strength I needed to overcome cancer in your gentle notes.

I visited countries I’d never been to before, where I faced confusion and inconveniences like not being able to speak the foreign languages. I’d travel so far that I had sleepless days and nights, hectic flights, and long train rides. Yet I managed my way around the world with happiness and passion!

After each concert I attended, I’d sometimes wait hours for you to show up, just to tell you how much I love you and to look into your eyes––one of my most treasured, legendary moments.

No one can ever replace you. There is no other Charles Aznavour. So no one will be able to heal my broken heart and sad soul. Now, as I wipe away my tears, I can understand your death in a new way. I will say it’s not Charles Aznavour who dies, but rather the French song instead.

We had a rare relationship forged in tragedy. It’s only fitting that it grows deeper in death.

Your music was my cure. I simply couldn’t have survived without your voice in my head during my chemotherapy treatments. I have been devastated this week in ways I never thought possible, and yet, there is beauty in your death and my destruction.

I had seen the beauty with my own eyes when I viewed my bald head and maimed body during surgery after surgery. Yet I transcended my inner and outer pain and agony by merely listening to your voice. Your words had the power to alter my reality and take me to beautiful places in my imagination where I was still beautiful and in this place I found rest from my cruel disease and peace for my soul.

These otherworldly pauses brought on by listening to your soothing songs instantly took the horror out of my day-to-day long enough for me to heal––completely and totally.

I am eternally yours, and you are eternally mine. Because of you, Charles, I lived. I am your miracle, and you are mine.

This October I celebrate my survival by mourning the man who healed me. Life would have turned to death without him. But, instead of focusing on all that I have lost in his death, I will celebrate the beauty and power of his music.

So many things about this cruel disease surprised me and caught me off guard. How ironic that a killer like cancer taught me more about life and loving to a different tune––one that lives on in my soul forever and allows me to beautifully transcend reality to meet him in my dreams.

Now , after you have left this world Charles…anyone can die. Death became meaningless to me …

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