I originally wrote this “obituary” on October 2, 2017, the day Tom Petty died. I wanted to honor him, and the effect others can have on us in this crazy thing called life, by posting on the anniversary of his death, in remembrance of him. Still can’t believe he’s gone. Rest In Peace Tommy.

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This is the first time I’ve ever cried after learning about a celebrity’s death. I have definitely been sad and deeply affected by the loss of others before, especially Nelson Mandela because of my time and experience in Cape Town. But I became uncontrollably emotional today when I heard about the passing of Tom Petty. I’m not really sure why and I’m trying to make sense of it. He’s my favorite musical artist of all time. I probably know more songs and more words to the songs composed and performed by him than any other musician or band. My first favorite song ever, at 3 years old, was “Free Falling.” Somewhere my parents have a picture of me dancing solo to that song in a tiny tuxedo during one of their Christmas parties. When I hear that ballad I cannot help, no matter what I’m doing, to stop and just feel. To be moved by the lyrics, the tone, the sound. It’s still one of my all time favorite tracks. And there are so many others that have had a profound effect on my experiences growing up. Songs like “American Girl,” “Breakdown,” “Learning to Fly,” and “Two Gunslingers.”

But I don’t think that’s really why I’m so upset. I grew up listening to Tom Petty because of my Dad. He was the one who introduced me to him, the one who would repeatedly blast the classic rock magic in the car. It was a connection that we had, something he taught me, something that we both liked and enjoyed, something that made me appreciate my relationship with my Dad and my love and fondness for him. When I listened to Tom Petty’s music with my Dad, I was able to be present. I appreciated the moments that we were having, enjoying this rock legend’s sound. It also gave me space to think deeply about my life, who I was, and what kind of life I wanted to live. I don’t know why, I guess because Tom Petty’s lyrics are so powerful, but his music just took me to a deeper place, a deeper state, in which I could look at the big picture of life, of the universe, of reality.

Songs like “Two Gunslingers” and “Learning to Fly” went beyond their metaphorical lyrics. The words spurred me to examine the deepest questions, like the nature and reason for violence, what that spirit is that allows us to learn and change and move on, and especially, how absolutely profound love with another human being can be.

I’m so thankful I got to go to one of his concerts on his 40th Anniversary tour, not even two months ago. I witnessed him, even at 66 years old, in all his glory, because his presence and exuberance and music radiated outward into the Greek Bowl crowd in Berkeley, California. I yelled and screamed and cried and let my soul run wild. I was free.

Thank you Tom Petty, for producing your work. Thank you for the love and value you added to the universe. It affected thousands if not millions of other people, and I know it deeply affected me. I owe many of my life’s epiphanies and treasured moments to your music, to your contribution. You are legendary, and legends never die. What you gave me will remain with me until my own death. Thus you live on. Thank you.