Thursday, December 20, 2007
I guess I either forget to update it or have nothing to say. But I guess I do now, since it's the holidays.
The holidays, eh? They sneaked up on me this year, man. You always register the fact that it's December and that means Christmas, but this year it didn't really mean much to me. Not that I'm apathetic or jaded... though consumerism is lollable. But still, I like Christmas. I guess the year is just flying by. Track, school, and The Beatles consume most of my time, so I guess Christmas is just another thing.
I didn't ask for much. CD-R's to burn. Yeah, lame, I know. Also, money. Unoriginal gift, but when you look at it, it's probably the most practical and useful of them all. I think I asked for a book or two. Whatever... I'd just like a crapload of money, and that'd be cool.
In terms of running, like you care, I've been doing all right. I'm a hell of a lot better than I was last year, but then again, last year wasn't very good. But we'll see. Indoor is a long season, and I'm fairly self-confident. Please don't smash that. :(
Also, Christmas break rocks. :D
Saturday, December 8, 2007
I miss you, John. 27 years later, I still wish I could turn back the clock to the Summer of 1980. I remember everything - sharing our morning coffee, walking in the park together on a beautiful day, and seeing your hand stretched to mine - holding it, reassuring me that I shouldn't worry about anything because our life was good.
I had no idea that life was about to teach me the toughest lesson of all. I learned the intense pain of losing a loved one suddenly, without warning, and without having the time for a final hug and the chance to say, "I love you," for the last time. The pain and shock of that sudden loss is with me every moment of every day. When I touched John's side of our bed on the night of December 8th, 1980, I realized that it was still warm. That moment has haunted me for the past 27 years - and will stay with me forever.
Even harder for me is watching what was taken away from our beautiful boy, Sean.
He lives in silent anger over not having his Dad, whom he loved so much, around to share his life with. I know we are not alone. Our pain is one shared by many other families who are suffering as the victims of senseless violence. This pain has to stop.
Let's: Think Peace, Act Peace, and Spread Peace. John worked for it all his life.
He said, "there's no problem, only solutions." Remember, we are all together.
We can do it, we must. I love you!
Yoko Ono Lennon