The Daily Lennon
On Friday, John's 80th, I was aware in the peripheral of all the activities going on around the world: music, interviews, recollections, and of a a community gathering in Love (and Peace). Much of it was online and very accessible, but honestly it was overwhelming on an emotional aspect, and I don't feel I'm alone in saying that. While trying to shove down a boring pasta dinner, I felt the pang of sadness hit as dusk descended outside a southern window. John is gone . . . that horrible feeling. We've all felt it for him and for all our dearly departed. John was dear to many of us and while i have the unique advantage of seeing him in spirit, sensing, feeling, knowing when he's around, I also feel the pain of loss. He will never be on this earth again in any physical way as John. That's the truth. And it hurts. So while there were celebrations, it was the heaviness of this truth that made my throat too tight to eat, taste buds too numb to taste. Then, in those last moments of amber coming through the window, I saw him. Like a grand finale of the day. My eyes settled on John in picture quality. Yes, very much like a photo I'd stared at years ago in an old magazine and knew quite well--taken the day of his death. It was one I loved because it showed his true essence of rock nobility: the coolness, the stance, that smirk. the hair and glasses, the black collar pitched up around his neck--aka Elvis. But so John.
Then, it faded . . . with the day. So fitting.