Thirty years ago today I awoke to the news that John Lennon had been shot. It was literally the first thing I heard when the clock radio went off that morning. It’s something I’ll never forget.
It has always amazed me, this thought that life goes on while we sleep, that people are born, get sick, and even die, without the rest of us knowing until the next day dawns, how the world continues without us being aware. How can that be? That we can sleep and dream while other people are in the midst of some devastating event. That a man could be gunned down– a man who stood for peace.
Thirty years ago today, my first daughter was born. Another brand-new life into the world. Tiny arms and tiny legs, a thick mass of dark hair, eyes clinched tightly as she came screaming into the world. How could the time have passed by so quickly?
Thirty years ago today when I awoke to the news that John Lennon had been shot, my world stopped for a fraction of a moment then continued on. It had to.