I don’t have many distinct memories from my childhood, but there are a few that stand out, and one of them involves Prince. I was ten and it was 2007. I only know this because I recently looked it up, but I was watching the Super Bowl with my family, and the Bears were playing the Colts. I had no interest in the game whatsoever, but for whatever reason, I stuck around the living room long enough for the half-time show to come on.

As soon as Prince walked on stage, I was captivated. It was pouring down rain, but it looked like he was having the time of his life and had planned the entire thing. When he played “Purple Rain,” I remember my parents singing along, but I just sat there and took it all in. It was one of the coolest things I had ever seen.

I don’t remember when exactly after seeing that performance that I got hooked, but I can also distinctly remember dancing around my friend’s kitchen to “Kiss” as we celebrated finishing our Social Studies Fair project in middle school. And then falling slowly but just as fully in love with “Raspberry Beret,” “When Doves Cry,” “Cream,” and “1999.”

One of the greatest things I’ve ever experienced is binge watching “New Girl” and being most pleasantly surprised when *spoiler alert* Jess and Cece got invited to a party at Prince’s house. I was able to live vicariously through Jess when she sang on stage with him, and I probably enjoyed it just as much as if I’d actually been there.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that Prince isn’t just for our parent’s generation. When I texted my parents to let them know, I was actually even more upset than my mother was—I still don’t really get that mom. I am deeply remised that our world has lost another great musical talent, and I will definitely go back to that “New Girl” episode and Super Bowl performance for a very long time to remember and honor such a fantastic man. RIP Prince.