John Lennon NYC

I just sat and watched the John Lennon American Masters documentary. It was riveting. It flew by, and I found myself hoping it would end another way. But of course, it didn’t. The sirens and black screen were devastating. It was losing him all over again. And after this brilliant show, his fight to stay here, his wonderful music, his love of Yoko Ono, all of the tender scenes with his son, Sean, it was all the more painful to watch the end.

Of course, we all know that he was shot, taken away untimely by someone who wanted to be famous, who wanted his name to be remembered. You won’t find me mentioning his name, not ever, and I hope he dies in jail for what he did.

After the blackness, there was a black and white shot of John, and a voiceover by Yoko, saying, “He was an artist. Why would anyone want to shoot him?” So poignant.

How did she/does she go on? I would be paralyzed if I lost my beloved. I can’t even imagine the pain. It’s having your soul torn out, to lose a part of yourself, unfathomable sorrow.

I wept at the end. How could I not?

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