I’m still heartbroken over the loss of the “Prince of Darkness,” even six weeks after his death. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it because I’ve never felt this sad over the passing of someone I never met. Honestly, it’s surprised me — and made me wonder if something’s wrong with me.
Maybe it’s because I was born in ’72, and Ozzy Osbourne has just always been there. His music has played in the background of my life — from Black Sabbath to his solo work. Then there was his presence on TV: The Osbournes, his travel show with Jack, Ozzy & Jack’s World Detour, (which I adore!), and more recently, The Osbourne’s Podcast that has been so entertaining — though often hard to watch as his health declined.
Ozzy was misunderstood by many because of his public persona — but that’s all it was: a persona. I’m not saying he didn’t make mistakes. He was human. He battled addiction. He cheated on his wives. He wasn’t a perfect father.
He came from absolutely nothing and became famous at such a young age — and I can’t imagine what that kind of pressure does to a person. But at his core, he was a true performer. He lived to entertain and make people happy.
And that, he did.
I never saw him perform live, but from the dozens of recorded concerts I’ve watched, it’s obvious — he knew he was talented. He had a gift for mesmerizing an audience, and he used it well. That voice is instantly recognizable. No one ever asks, “Is that Ozzy?” You just know.
He was such a unique, hilarious, genuine, imperfect, humble, sweet — and honestly, just beautiful — human being. He brought joy to so many people for decades simply by being himself.
Since his death, I’ve rewatched The Osbournes. I hadn’t seen it since it first aired over 20 years ago. It made me sad to see him struggling with addiction even in his 50s. I think some people only know that version of him — and they lump him into a certain category, without understanding why so many are grieving his loss now.
I’m still seeing posts every day from others expressing similar thoughts, so I know I’m not the only one. I also needed somewhere to put my feelings down — and I thought it might be helpful to share them here, in case someone else stumbles upon this and feels the same way but isn’t quite sure how to navigate a kind of grief they don’t fully understand.
Because honestly, it is a weird thing.
I’ve never cried over the death of a famous person — or anyone I’ve never met — before. And I kept thinking, “What is wrong with me?” But the truth is: nothing is wrong. It’s just a reminder that I’m alive, that I have feelings, and that I care about something beyond myself.
I heard Ozzy say on one of the podcasts something like, “Save your tears for when you really need them,” and I really felt that. Some things just aren’t worth crying over — but others are worth shedding a few tears, or as many as you need. Crying when someone you care about dies is normal. Especially when that someone has been a constant presence in your life, in some form, since you were born.
Our brains can’t always separate things from our hearts, no matter how much we might not understand the reasons behind our feelings. And I’m okay with that.
If I could go back in time, I’d go to the ’86 show at Mesker Amphitheater in Evansville—my old hometown venue, now closed and in shambles—when Metallica was supposed to open for Ozzy but couldn’t because James Hetfield broke his wrist skateboarding before the show.
Ozzy actually played at Mesker back in 1981 on the Blizzard of Ozz tour with the late Randy Rhoads—but I would’ve been way too young for that one. I was nine. Too bad!
I’ve read conflicting stories about the ’86 show: that Ozzy did a double set to make up for Metallica’s absence… or that he just did his set and left. Either way, he did it his way. That was Ozzy.
I imagine a lot of people were mad because Metallica had to cancel that show—but honestly, the whole debacle kind of makes me laugh. I can totally picture Ozzy backstage, wild ’80s hair and full Brummie accent, going, “Fucking hell, man. Why the fuck did you do that, James?”
Ozzy always shouted, “I love you!” dozens of times during his concerts, and he never ended a show without bowing to the audience alongside his bandmates and saying some version of, “Goodnight, God bless you—I love you all!”
I truly believe he meant it.
Blessings, Stacey