25 Years Later-The Dream Still Lives

December 8th 1980 started out like any other day in my 14 year old life. It was a Monday, so I went to school, the tenth grade...My parents were die hard football fans, so they were watching Monday Night Football down in the basement. I was doing homework-I don't really recall what exactly. When someone knocked on my door a little after 11pm, I was sure it was to be told "lights out". Instead, my mother spoke words that changed my entire existance. "One of the Beatles, John Lennon, was just shot and killed in New York City." Being a woman who never tolerated emotion from others, she simply turned and went back downstairs, leaving me with the words.
At fourteen I was innocent, completely untouched by reality, and had been in awe of The Beatles for 11 years. At three, I discovered a stack of beatles 45's in the basement of my brother's seven year old friend, WeeGee (yes, that was his name! He had a cousin named Chip, and grandpa named Pipsi, and a sister name GingyLyn...!). I remember listening to "Hey Jude" and spinning around and round in my three year old circles. I fell instantly in love with Paul, and John remained my "symbol of rebellion" forever and ever. When I was 9 or 10, my brother was a young teen, and he bought several albums, including the White Album (The Beatles). It came with 8x10 glossy photos of each member, and they were hung on the outside of his bedroom door. I feel asleep each night looking across the hall at them. I wanted to be a hippee, I had peace signs all over, and wore ribbons as headbands around my head:)
The fact that a FAN shot the greatest person in my life was SHATTERING. To make matters worse, I couldn't speak about the horror, the pain, the complete FEAR I felt inside over this tragedy. My father made jokes at the dinner table each night at my expense, too gross and nasty to ever write or repeat. By the time my older brother left for college that spring, I was a complete basket case, too depressed and pained for words. I barely existed at school, and my obsession with The Beatles only grew. It became a "trait" of my personality. My mother said I would grow out of it. It annoyed her to no end, she HATED anything to do with "rock and roll" or worse, the Sixties! LOL.

I sit here now, on the 25th anniversay of his death, and write my thoughts. I see all of this completely different now. It's not that my hero is dead, that he died way too young, that the music is "over" as they say...It's not a horror of my teenage years. It's a travesty of history, for sure, that I didn't really get at 14.
The biggest thing for me to comprehend is this: I am just a few months shy of the age John was when he had his life RIPPED away from him. My youngest son is a few months shy of the age John's son, Sean, was, (5) when he lost his dad. Such a tragedy, one I didn't even REALIZE at 14. I have YET to make my mark, YET to feel old, YET to accomplish enough to make me feel successful....I feel that forty is YOUNG...And we lost John.
He had so much more to do, so many more to touch. His music was just beginning to show his heart, his capacity for love, for his intense NEED for peace in the world. The world has changed...Changed SO much since 1980...9-11 would have completely DESTROYED John, a New York lovin' man, a peace lovin' man. The world has changed, I have changed. John has not-he is forever a man of hope, peace, love and incredible talent.

And me? I sure didn't "grow out of it". My two youngest sons are Dakota John and Julian Paul-research the Beatles if you don't "get" those names:) My children all had/have Beatle lulliby albums they listened to each night. They know each and every song, and they will help remember John in the daylight of December 8th, 2005. The Beatles are SUCH a constant factor in my life-our homeschool is named Penny Lane Academy:) I think, quite honestly, that if people that know me well were asked to sum up "who I am", "BeatleFreak" would be right in the top part of the list:)

Blessings to John-to all who knew him, whether in person or by song, and to all who WILL know him. I carry him with me always. ALWAYS.