The time John made Savers smell like weed
My mother had passed and I was still grieving. Autumn came upon us but with it a string of stormy days that seemed to match the torment in my heart. All l summer I had accompanied her to doctor's appointments, including Chemo, and her passing brought a strange mix relief yet horrible loss.. The weekend after her death I wept in silence as my son played video games. I thought I was being discreet, yet somehow he knew, In one moment he turned on me with a morose expression, no longer able to take the heaviness of my constant pain.--no matter how much I hid. It seemed there was nowhere to turn with the grief.
Over the summer as my mother succumbed to cancer, I took solace in being on the road 24/7. Her house, the hospital, chemo, the store, my sister's to take care of her dogs as she went on vacation, back home to my kids and my dog and cats to relax for a moment and make dinner, and repeat. Every day was a flurry of fear and worry and stress. Yet somehow I kept, all in the hopes that Mother would beat her diagnosis.
Then came hospice. Me and my siblings watched as she withered quickly away into another realm, her skin tight around her face, loose on the rest of her. The day before she passed, I knew it--I'd 'seen' in my psychic eye her leap into her parents' waiting arms, a child once again.
All that summer as I drove back and forth from one place to the other, John made himself known. Songs on the radio brought constant messages. Then one evening I saw him at an intersection while stopped at a red light.. A man dressed all in ecru with brown leather boots and cap, long hair and granny glasses, even the long beard--started across the adjacent path. He even walked like John, hands in pockets and head titled back. Behind me, a pure white VW Beetle pulled up. It was perfect. In my head i said--"Hey John, is that you? If so, next time send a silver Beetle." I was referencing a name the band had used before becoming The Beatles. The light changed to green, but before I drove through the intersection I searched the walkway for the bearded man--the one who looked and walked just like John. He was nowhere to be seen.
The next day after tending to Mother, I stopped at the same intersection around the same time. A silver VW Beetle pulled up and my mouth dropped open. The man inside wore granny glasses and a had a long beard. Then another VW Beetle pulled up across the way, then another, and if that wasn't enough a vintage VW bus pulled up with a man who, once again, looked just like John behind the wheel. Honestly, I can't remember if I laughed or cried, it was so incredible.
Later, the doubt crept in. I was hallucinating. Imagining it all. I told myself this, ignoring all the years of him appearing in my dreams, showing up in spirit, songs, lyrics, birds, etc. Yet it was just too impossible to believe.
After Mother's death, I fell into the grief. Every day felt like a long, chain of deep sorrow. One Sunday I decided to get off my duff and go somewhere, because I couldn't mourn forever, and decided on Savers. Why Savers? Because you can find anything there if you look hard enough. My daughter and I got in the car and drove through wet, leaf covered streets, all the while my heart still stuck in a dark cloud of its own. But life had to move on and I had to accept her death!
We walked into Savers and the putrid, thick smell of weed hit my nostrils like singing iron. I don't use drugs, and I knew my daughter didn't either. Part of me laughed, and another was horrified. "Do you smell that?" I asked her, and she shook her head. No one else in the store seemed to notice as well.. Fine. I would deal with it and not act like a Karen. My daughter headed to the Halloween section and I to the books--as usual. My heart stopped. There on the shelf were two books about John Lennon shoved between various other biographies of no interest. One was a book I had lost years ago--much treasured and much missed. The other was a pure white clothbound with gold lettering on the spine. In that moment, I felt him standing there next to me with a huge grin. He'd come to comfort me when I needed it most. Savers, of all places!
Gathering myself together, books in tow, I found my daughter. We finished our shopping and left the store. While driving the whole thing hit me, and I began to laugh out loud. "What?" my daughter asked, eyes curious as to what had suddenly made me crack up so much. "Nothing,' I replied, shaking. The weed. The whole store had reeked of it! John Lennon had made an entire Savers smell like weed just to cheer me up.
As a side note I want to explain that John does not believe in drugs anymore.--the way a lot of people think he does. It's our free will to use them if we want to, but personally he is happy and healthy on the other side. The reason he used the pot reference was because he knew it would get my attention and that I would tie it in with the books. A planned visit and message from him in comical style. He did it because it was BIG. And John does BIG. I still laugh about it to this day.
So that's my story about the day John Lennon made an entire thrift store smell like weed. Now he does more subtle things like manifest everywhere and flicker lights and such. The thing is, John can do anything he wants to, if he wants to. But he won't speak directly as of yet--that I know of. He uses music, poetry, humor, birds, light, shadow, etc. And, if you're lucky, an entire Savers.
Thanks for reading. Peace.