My Dear John Letter Part 3- I need a fix cause I’m going down….

Picture of John Lennon's Strawberry Fields For...
Picture of John Lennon’s Strawberry Fields Forever Memorial (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

My heart has been aching lately with a deep, raw, angry throb.  No matter how hard I try to force the cloud away, it lingers, ever persistent, ever abiding.  So, I do what I always do, I turn to the ones that Stand By Me.  I let his voice caress my soul into peace.  I have to have my shot, I’m a John Junkie.  I recently rebuilt the shrine, hope you like it.  I know I do.  I made a friend along the way, and am even more thankful for the togetherness my guys bring in my interactions with others.

 

So, not all of their music was all Yeah, Yeah, Yeah moptops or Power to the People sit-ins. Some of it was very serious, and drive a point I’m trying to figure out straight through me.  As Paul is crooning to me, when I find myself in times of trouble, Let It Be.  When some people would say WWJD, I interpret it as What Would John Do?  I know, that’s “blasphemous”, but hey, they wanted to start a Revolution, now didn’t they?  They did, ya know, and I am too.

 

John says “I think that’s rather grand!”  (I’m listening to Pandora for the record, that wasn’t my private playlist as background music.)

 

You see, from my youngest days of BeatleMania, I listened to interviews with them, watched their movies,  I drank in Lennon/McCartney liner notes and endless memorabilia like other women suck up erotica.  I’ve read Lennon’s biography in more ways than I can count, and have followed the lore of backward masking, my ears and mind trying to match up with the feelings evoked in the sounds and voices that assaulted me.  I’ve unraveled clues and twists and turns and clever witticisms and tie ins between songs and lyrics and movies.

 

My kids know all about the symbolisms of the Abbey Road cover and how it correlates to the Magical Mystery Tour.  Ironically, my ex-husband once felt it was clever to get a petty revenge on me by paying for professional pictures of him, his ex girlfriend, and my oldest children posing as that immortal album cover.  Brilliant, isn’t he?  *eye roll*  Even more ironically, is that the very focus of my hurt.  That level of disrespect for me by others, when all I’m trying to do is Imagine a world where I’m less Lady Madonna and more Lucy.

 

Finally, I have someone in my life that treats me the way I treat them, and Maybe I’m Amazed by that.  It’s unbelievably comforting to have someone who is ok with me being Mother Nature’s Child, and is fine with it when I picture myself on a boat on a river, or visit Pepperland. When my soul needs to commune with something larger than me, he doesn’t mind when I bow at the alter of John, Paul, George, and Ringo.  In fact, he doesn’t even mind the fact that I’ve turned the garret of our home into a mini Beatles Museum, greeted by a 4 1/2 ft tapestry of John at the top of the stairs.I’ll shine on, I know, because as always I’ll get by with a little help from my friends.  I’ll keep looking at things through a Glass Onion, and try to abate my desire for Instant Karma. Because, someday, there’ll be Strawberry Fields Forever, and When I’m 64, I have a strong hunch, Yesterday will show that I took a sad song and made it better.

 

So, without further ado, The Shrine

 

Also, my apologies for the randomness in this post, but In My Life, I love you more.  And these memories lose their meaning when I think of love as something new. I know I’ll often stop and think about them, but I’ll be carrying Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, and when all is Helter Skelter, I got to admit It’s Getting Better All The Time, and when it’s my darkest hour, Here Comes the Sun.

 

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