George Harrison stopped being a Beatle yesterday. According to
him, they would each "go on being a Beatle" until they died.
Surrendering to his extended battle with cancer, he left the stage as he had
played on it...quietly.
George became a part of my life, on February 9th 1 964.
Sitting Indian-style on the floor of my childhood home, I was spellbound by the
sounds that sprang forth from our '58 Philco. The "Fab Four" had
exploded into the American consciousness and though I was only nine years old;
it was the beginning of a life-long love of music.
My love affair (AND borderline addiction) was further fueled when
I bought my first, cherished piece of vinyl a year later. Columbia
I remember caressing the body of my beloved first guitar and
pouring over my newly acquired Beatles songbook, suddenly seized by a sense of
awkward unworthiness. Certainly it would be blasphemous to even attempt to play
his work. These days, my dusty guitar sits silently in the corner of my music
library. I am content, and still in awe, to hear his music played as it was
written.
Comfortable in the shadows of Paul and John, George interwove his
distinctive sound throughout the Beatles' music and beyond into his solo
career. Here Comes the Sun, Give
Me Love, What is Life, Something.. .the words to each song are forever
inscribed in my head. One of his last songs, When We Was Fab always
reminds of the "quiet Beatle's" poignant sense of humor.
In the end; however, he liked to describe himself as a gardener
saying he lived simply, planting flowers and watching them grow. In his
autobiography he remarked, "I stay at home and watch the river flow."
Yesterday, as the river flowed, George Harrison left us. He
departed, leaving us with a rich tapestry of music and memory, taking flight
with faith, on a journey home to a God who had long guided his life on earth.
Godspeed, George.
Now, my guitar gently weeps.
