After so many years, you'd think that this date was like any other date, but not to me. November 22nd is still the day John F Kennedy was shot. At a party once, everyone asked each other, "where were you when Kennedy was killed?"
I remember as if it were yesterday. I was in 7th grade at my horrible Jr. High School, sitting in my music class at the piano. The intercom jingle came on and the principal at the school asked for a minute of silence and prayer because the president had been shot. We were all in a state of shock. An hour later we were told he had died.
Many people have different ways of dealing with shock and sorrow, but my mom had a way all her own. When I got home from school that day, I walked into the kitchen, and there was my mom on her knees scrubbing the oven broiler. She was covered in grease and she was crying. I asked her why she was cleaning at a time like this, and she answered that it was her way of dealing with grief. Like mother, like daughter because I too clean now when I'm upset about something, and believe it or not, it helps.
What bothers me the most, is that we will probably never know who really was behind Kennedy's murder and it bothers me that someone out there threw the whole world in a state of grief and sorrow and has probably never paid the price.
I believe we all have the right, to know who robbed the world of this great man, even though it happened 43 years ago.
That's my thought for the day. I'll just let it blow in the wind.
