It’s been a surreal and heartwarming experience watching my 9-year-old son process the passing of Ozzy Osbourne in his own unique way. Since the news broke, he’s been dressing up like Ozzy—every single day. I’m talking black shirts, round glasses, crucifixes, fake tattoos drawn in marker, and even a wig when he can sneak one from the costume box. But it’s not just about the look. He’s adopted Ozzy’s famously slurred British accent, wandering around the house saying, “Sharon! Where’s me bloody tea?” or muttering unintelligibly in ways that somehow capture the Prince of Darkness perfectly.
It all started with a casual viewing of The Osbournes during a family movie night. We figured the humor would fly over his head, but instead, he was captivated. The chaotic energy, the love, the swearing (okay, we fast-forwarded some parts), and most of all, Ozzy himself—he couldn’t look away. From there, he started diving into Black Sabbath songs and Ozzy’s solo work. He has a particular fondness for “Crazy Train,” which now blares out of his bedroom every morning as his personal wake-up anthem. He even pretends to hold concerts in the living room, air-guitaring with ferocity and yelling, “I love you all!”
When Ozzy passed, my son took it personally. For a kid who only recently discovered him, the loss still hit hard. But instead of mourning in silence, he turned it into tribute. Dressing like Ozzy became his form of remembrance, a way to keep his hero’s spirit alive. He started asking about England, heavy metal, and even how bats work—thankfully, we’ve kept him away from reenacting that moment.
Sometimes, I catch myself laughing as he shuffles down the hallway in a pair of oversized boots, mumbling something unintelligible about a tour or a gig. And other times, I feel deeply moved. There’s something incredible about a 9-year-old finding such connection in music and personality. Ozzy’s raw authenticity—his flaws, humor, and heart—seems to resonate with my son in a way few things have. It’s not just about the rock star persona; it’s about being yourself, loudly and unapologetically. That’s what he’s emulating.
We’ve turned our family evenings into Ozzy time: watching old concerts, talking about music history, and even trying to cook meals inspired by the Osbourne family. He wants to start playing guitar now, “just like Tony Iommi,” he says. And sure, there’s a lot he doesn’t fully understand yet—about addiction, fame, and the hardships Ozzy faced—but he’s absorbing the parts that matter most: creativity, resilience, and love.
So yes, our house sounds like a backstage dressing room from the ‘80s, and I’m constantly hearing, “Oi, Dad!” from down the hall, but honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way. My son has found a hero in Ozzy, and through that connection, he’s learning about passion, expression, and individuality. Forever Ozzy. 🤘🏻
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