Yesterday while at work I got an e-mail news alert that Farrah Fawcett had bravely succumbed to cancer. I took a quiet pause and then gently told a colleague (because you really don't know who's a fan).

Farrah's health struggles have been well documented and, frankly, not unexpected. Still, rarely are you prepared to deal with death. The announcement of her passing made me think about the attachment that we have to celebrities and our ability to sometimes over-identify with their life comings and goings to the point where we truly can feel their pain. That pain, unfortunately, also includes grief.

Later that afternoon while walking down 57th Street in Manhattan, my daughter called me (rare in these text-message days) and I immediately wondered what was wrong. When she told me Michael Jackson had died, I was speechless. I poked my head into a restaurant, where his death was confirmed on TV by a national news network. It truly was a New York moment, as everyone simultaneously exhaled and said, 'I loved Michael.'

The murmur of favorite stories and songs began spewing out like hot steam from a tea kettle. For a few minutes, we were all one in sadness and shock listening to 'Got To Be There' and ' I Want You Back.' I actually felt better -- a little less sad -- and smiled to myself thinking of how much I too love listening to Michael Jackson’s music. One distinct memory I have is watching his video 'Thriller' over and over. Once when I was much younger, I was actually backstage at a Jackson concert and caught a fleeting glimpse of his apple green shirt and 'fro. My heart was beating so fast, but I actually never saw him. Despite our lack of a personal meeting, he was my first crush --evidenced by photos from Tiger Beat and Right On magazine that covered my bedroom. However, as he grew up, he changed…I changed…and life moved on.

Familiarity with a face and seemingly predictable personality patterns can make you feel like you really know someone. Whether it's a Charlie's Angel or an incredibly gifted musical performer. The personal meanings you attach to other people’s lives come from your own memories. Music is a powerful stirrer of emotions and memories. Visual images and theme songs can take you right back to childhood, for instance, when life was good simply eating an after school snack while sitting in front of the television.

Today, our grief comes from losing what feels like old, old friends. Most of us have dealt with loss in our lives and understand how loss can impact life in so many ways. You don't have to know someone personally to have an attachment. All you need are memories, emotional connectedness, and that pang in your chest tapping into your heartfelt emotions.

Our pain, like grief, can be a good thing. It reminds us all of our humanity and the importance of cherishing moments, memories, and, yes, old friends that we will miss. Farewell, Farrah and Michael. Thank you for helping us add meaning to the memories.