So 38 years ago yesterday John Lennon was killed. Its rarely a date I reminisce over but for some reason this year it was reverberating a lot. Over the last year I have been introducing my lovely little children to more wonderful music from the The Beatles, Queen and the like and so too explaining about the lives and deaths of John Lennon and Freddie Mercury in as little detail as 7 and 5 year olds need to know of course! So we were sat at the table during the day and I told them that it was the anniversary of John Lennon’s death. Happy Saturday everyone….First response from the littlest went something like this ’so was he killed with a gun then mummy?’ I stammered a little and well I can’t lie to them and had to say ‘yes tiny, he was and it was very sad’ or something to that nature. Second response from the eldest child ’do you think the man shot him because he wanted to be known as the man that killed John Lennon?’ well I was stunned to utter silence, nodded my head like a nodding dog and said ‘yes I think that is exactly why he did it chicken’. Wow, what the absolutely what? Did I really just end up having the most surreal frank and amazing conversations with them little chicklings about that. The gravity of it didn’t really hit me until later that evening, when The Beatles came up in conversation as options for karaoke… I’ll just add in here that I have always been a very big fan of karaoke, but then as I turned to sort of singing properly some might say professionally I was informed that karaoke isn’t the done thing, you know when you’ve gone pro! But any of you that know me, and I mean really know me…well ill say no more and get back to the actual point here…In a very odd round about fashion it ended up that I was going to be singing a song by The Beatles that night and it wasn’t planned, I certainly hadn’t scoured through the books, filled in the little slip of paper and all that malarkey but then there I was singing Nowhere Man to a pub full of strangers. I mean Nowhere Man?! Is it a sign? What does this mean? Probably nothing but I like to think too much! Anyway there I was there singing my little heart out as always sounding pretty good, not too rusty and I could hear people talking, first of all I could hear them saying ‘ooh oh this is a good singer we haven’t heard before’, which felt good and then the chatter became distant and I know I was present in the room but somehow I wasn’t just the same. Somehow I felt like I was as lost as the Nowhere Man as lost in the ether as John Lennon and it was very strange indeed. When I finished the song I said, ‘that was for John Lennon’ and not one person batted an eye, not one gave it a second thought. It meant nothing to anyone except me. It definitely meant something to me and in that moment I knew, that is all that matters. It doesnt matter to anyone else but it has to matter to me, I don’t need to care about anyone else, wondering, why are they not listening? Why is it not important to them? Because it just isn’t and their thoughts are their own, just as mine are mine. That is the great thing about us all, the special thing, our minds are own opinions. Seeing and hearing my own children minds work in a similar manner to mine, in that inquisitive that caring, that empathic kind of way felt harrowing but great nonetheless. To know that as long as they see the world like that, as long as they can open their minds, respond to what is happening around them, live, breathe and soak it all up that they will be just fine.