Whitney is forever here to remind us all to assume the risk and just be ourselves, no limits whatsoever, and to let go of the ones who just won’t let us. Although, it’s only us who don’t let us be ourselves, no limits whatsoever. Be kind to everyone, but be kind to yourself, first.

Can I be me? Whitney used to say in the most unselfish way possible. She wanted freedom. She was freedom, so she wanted to believe in everything she did. To have fun and to love.

Raw.

She was elegance, the almost too good to be true gorgeous rawness that comes from elegance or is it the rawness that, in fact, creates the elegance? She refused to pretend or say even the tinniest, most innocent lie through her eyes or words. Nothing. Nothiiiing… Raw at all times. The courage and the trust! Without looking for anything in any kind of love other than love. We wouldn’t call love any kind of love other than love, anyway, would we? Love hand in hand with style. I wouldn’t call style any kind of style without everything that style comes with. Nothing hand in hand with everything.

She could wear anything and look elegant: from high waisted, baggy jeans and a tank top to a sparkling, fringed skirt to a pink dress to an oversized hoodie and leggings. It’s something that can not be faked and this is the beauty of it. Elegance only exists in truth. Elegance is love. It says something. It says everything.

Elegant: graceful and stylish in appearance or manner. Synonyms: stylish, graceful, tasteful, discerning, refined, sophisticated, dignified, cultivated, distinguished, classic, smart, fashionable, modish, decorous, beautiful, artistic, aesthetic, lovely.

She didn’t have to follow any rules, she was true to herself. This gave her power and, ultimately, the love she shared.

She might have seemed cooky (as she candidly said herself about herself) at times, but it takes a little bit of crazy to confront the world for sticking to your own core. She was rebellious in the most loving way. For that special extra something she chose to feel and live. For something greater than us she referred to as God. Within yourself. For love.

She loved herself, but she never put herself first. She loved love more. She used herself for love when all that love wanted was for her to love herself and put herself first. She was love. The greatest love of all.

Sweet love.

Wait till Bobbi Kristina comes in. The way Whitney just lets her baby be and the way Bobbi Kristina loves it, the way the baby looks at her mom, the way they dance, the way Whitney stops the band, the way Whitney teaches her daughter about rhythm on stage is exactly the way she teaches her baby to love.

Free.

Or till Whitney melts when hugging her baby and then just can’t get enough of hearing her baby. It’s My Love Is Your Love again, yes, but this is just me, newsflash, obsessing.

Not in “my baby is everything to me” kind of way, but in a “I’m just melting this is how much I love my baby” kind of way.

We will always love you. And love you, and love you, and love you, and love you, and love you, and love you, and love you, and love you!