Mariah Carey’s mother and sister died on the same day, how can we as Christians navigate such shocking grief?

Recently, Mariah Carey, once dubbed The Queen of Christmas, received the devastating news that her mother and her sister had died on the same day. In her 2020 memoir, The Meaning of Mariah Carey, she described her complicated family relationships. Growing up in poverty and making her way in the tough music industry, she battled with racism, sexism and abuse, yet made it to international superstar status.

Mariah’s parents separated when she was just three years old. There were indications that Mariah’s mother, Patricia, a former opera singer and voice coach, was jealous of her daughter’s career – an inevitably source of friction.

Before he died in 2002, Mariah found refuge in her father’s house on the other side of town where he cooked delicious Sunday meals. She was estranged from her older sister, Alison, who sued her over accounts in the book claiming they triggered, ‘immense emotional distress caused by [the] defendant’s heartless, vicious, vindictive, despicable and totally unnecessary public humiliation’. Alison was suffering from liver cancer and spent time in a hospice care before she passed away.

While she had no contact with her sister, Mariah spent the last week of Patricia’s life with her, for which she is grateful.

While she had no contact with her sister, Mariah spent the last week of Patricia’s life with her, for which she is grateful.

Whether you’re a fan of Mariah’s or not, you’ll appreciate the weight of her loss – the brutal reminder of the transience of life and the harsh intrusion of death. I can’t imagine the intense pain of losing two of my immediate family on the same day.

Whatever maelstrom of emotions is currently crashing over Mariah Carey, one of the biggest may be the regret that things were not put right with her sister.

Mariah lives in the rarefied atmosphere of pop culture divadom, who earn salaries way beyond our experience. She can go anywhere and do anything, albeit not without the paparazzi constantly baying for her attention and accompanied by minders for her personal safety.

Whatever maelstrom of emotions is currently crashing over Mariah Carey, one of the biggest may be the regret that things were not put right with her sister.

The price of fame is high. Discerning who are genuine friends who have stuck with you through thick and thin and want the best for you, as opposed to the fair-weather friends and hangers-on keen to lap up some of the associated glory, is notoriously difficult. Perhaps one of the reasons Taylor Swift seems so level headed is because she has a good relationship with her mother who is part of her management team and has never missed a performance. I imagine there must be times when Mariah has wished for the same kind of easy going, heart-to-heart closeness with her own mother, sharing her anxieties as well her successes. With a career in the public eye, the support of family and friends is vital to keep any artist or celebrity grounded.

The closest biblical example to Mariah’s experience is probably Job who lost all ten of his children on the same day, including the wealth he had stored up in flocks and herds. His response on hearing the shattering news was to tear his clothes and shave his hair in a gesture of culturally appropriate grief and then fall down in worship, acknowledging the sovereignty of God in all things. The best thing his friends did for him in the aftermath was to sit in silence with him for an entire week. Their company proved to be far more supportive than their words.

Bereavement opens wells of grief that force us to face our humanity and the realities of a finite life. When tragedy strikes, we can feel overwhelmed, vulnerable, ask important questions and reflect on times past. We choose to either press into God or pull away from hIm. I’m sure Mariah Carey will be doing her fair share of self-examination as she comes to terms with a new reality and the challenge of processing her grief.

For years she’s been telling us what she wants for Christmas but, at the end of the day, you can earn all the Grammys in the world, have an astonishing five-octave range and sell millions of records, but when the lights go down, the audience goes home, and you’re alone again, where do you turn? Let’s pray she finds refuge in the house of our Heavenly Father.‌