It is exactly a month until my birthday... and last night I probably got the present of a lifetime.
Yesterday my friends and I were in the city for a class requirement. Afterwards, we walked around going to a few of my new favorite places, and I begged them to could go to Strawberry Fields. Little did I realize, that it was December 8th, the anniversary of John Lennon's death.
Around 8 o'clock, as we were walking to Central Park in the cloak of the night, I swore I heard music. I asked the girls if they heard it too, "I'm humming," Johanna replied. But, when we stopped for a moment we realized that there really was singing, and the sweet sound of guitars coming at us from the left. We turned and looked, and low and behold, the memorial of John Lennon's death. A wave of sadness and excitement crashed over me. I was brought up on the Beatles, my mother and I love to sing along to almost any song of theirs we hear (although, with my mother and I, when aren't we singing?). I sang "In My Life" and "Let it Be" to my late Great Grandmother when she'd ask me to sing for her. This meant something.
Liz, Johanna and I walked up to the crowd, and soon found ourselves nestled in the crowd of people whose voices and bodies acted as a second layer of warmth to our thoroughly frosted selves. We talked to people, we sang louder than I think I've ever sung in public. I made a new friend, and we made it up to the front row.
I swear the moments where we were asked to have the two silences, my heart stood still. As I watched Yoko Ono blow out the candle from her apartment, we began to sing Imagine. Of all the songs we sang that night in a group I didn't think that would be the one to really get me. Of course I teared (alright, more than teared) at the two songs I hold so close (In My Life and Let it Be). But somewhere between the drunken man next to us screaming "Play Happy Christmas!" after every song, and later on, my favorite flub up "Play My Guitar Weeps Quietly!" (hehe), and the voices of this crowd of people reaching far past where I could ever imagine my voice reaching, I cried. I did so quietly, and to myself, hoping my new found friends wouldn't see me, but I let every sadness I've felt in the last few months pour out of me into my mourning.
There is no such thing as a lack of beauty in any moment, any breath. I cannot possibly bear to let myself forget the feeling of togetherness I felt with these strangers. I cannot let myself fall prey to any kind of sour feeling in my heart. I plan on remembering this first memorial I attended (trust me, we will be going again next year, and I plan on every year after that), as long as I can.
This is the second post I've dedicated to an admirable person passing on, but I don't know how else to end this.
RIP, John Lennon. It was proven last night you will never be forgotten.