Twitter crashed.  Google News was unavailable for some for an hour.  The internet practically choked on the news of Michael Jackson, The King of Pop, dead after a cardiac arrest at his home.  Farrah Fawcett passed away on the same day.  Ed McMahon expired just two days prior.  While these iconic celebrities’ deaths are cause for great sadness, grief, loss and celebration of their lives and contributions,  there is an even bigger takeaway for all of us.

How have we lived…how well are we living ourselves right now?

At our current death rate in the United States (8.27 deaths/1000 population), yesterday on the same day we lost Farrah and Michael, another 8,154 other people died,  in the United States alone.  That’s 8,154 grandparents, great grandparents, moms and dads, brothers and sisters, children and grand children–each with an individual story and a network of family and friends that grieve their loss.

So while the news of Farrah Fawcett’s passing overshadows the loss of 83 year old Nina Pinsky in Paintsville, Kentucky, it all gets glossed over by the video of a Sheriff’s helicopter taking Michael Jackson’s body to the coroner’s office for an autopsy.  Yet this media coverage pales in comparison to the news stories running in the minds of every grieving loved one of any of the 8,156 people who died yesterday, and today, and tomorrow, and every day of the year.

So how am I living?

When my time is up, what will the “news coverage” say about me?  What will be my legacy?

I met Ed McMahon as one of my guests while I was working at the Grand Floridian Beach Resort at Walt Disney World.  I grew up with Farrah’s famous swimsuit poster in my room.  And my ITunes account has Dirty Diana on my favorites list still to this day.  I cherish each of these fine performers for their gifts and contributions to their craft and to the world.

Yet more than anything, I thank them all for the gift of invitation to reflect upon how I want to spend the rest of my life…how I want to make a difference in the world…how I want to remembered, when my day comes.