27 years ago today, John Lennon was murdered.
I remember sitting at Stars and Stripes park with Mark and many other people burning incense, candles and doobies while listening to Lennon tunes blasted across the park by someone with a great sound system.
Strangers cried and hugged and wondered why. Why would someone kill a peace loving individual who never hurt anyone?
Yoko wrote this letter.
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.
