Amid the 50th anniversary commemorations of The Beatles arrival in America, I have been trying to think of some words to say that could capture my feelings about the band and just how infused my heart and soul are with their music. But then I thought, this post I wrote a while back captures it all best…my memories of the music wrapped up with memories of my father. Happy anniversary, fellows.
One of my colleagues was in my office the other day and asked me, “So, do you just sit here and listen to The Beatles all day?”
“Well yes, I do,” was my reply. “Is that bad?”
In fact I listen to many things, but I have found this online Beatles station that I will sometimes pull up on my computer and keep up for days and days and days. Weeks, even.
I was the child who, at eight years old, cried real tears upon hearing of John Lennon’s death.
This is one way that I am absolutely the daughter of my father.
My parents had married and then separated by the time I was two. Romantic relationships that are begun at the age of 16 are not usually meant to last, and the if these relationships produce a child, that does not normally improve the chances for the union’s longevity. …
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