Any closing remarks?
She killed him. People he befriended and pitied and inspired killed him a second time. I wrote Strange Days because I was resolved that no one–NO ONE–should kill my man a third time. I have brought him back to life, restored his reality and his humanity in the world, or so at least many thousands of people have told me. But there is fighting still to be done.
My strength for this battle is fueled because I was his woman–I am his woman–his pulse will be with me to the end, and for us it will be no end but only another joyful beginning.
Many courteous, correct, honorable souls have called me Jim’s widow, and I am profoundly grateful for the title they give me. I have earned it. Yet there is a discontinuity to “widow” that is not relevant to him and me; in the sense that we were married and he is dead, yes, I am the widow of Jim Morrison.
But for the past twenty-seven years I have lived as the wife of Jim Morrison, and I will do so until I die, and after. And no other woman, alive or dead, can say, or claim, or do, as much as that.