Twenty years ago today, John Lennon was shot and killed. While that is still a bummer, to this day, it's not directly what this post is about. It's more about a memory I have about the following morning.

I was 6 years old and I awoke the next morning to find my mom tearing up a bit. I remember my mom sitting on the couch to button up my shirt as I stood there facing her. It was then that i really noticed her crying. I finally had to ask, "Mommy, why are you crying?" She asked me if I remembered who John Lennon was. I grew up with a mom originally from Liverpool. At 6, you already knew who the Beatles and John Lennon were. I told her that I did. It was then that she had told me that somebody had shot and killed him the previous night. The tears continued flowing. It was then that I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a big hug, hoping that I could fix it all and make it not hurt anymore.

It's 28 years later and although the circumstances that set it all in motion suck, it's still one of my favorite memories of me and my mom.