June 19, 1973

New York, New York

Central Park

2:00 p.m.

Eventually, we had lunch, he took me to all sorts of groovy places, and we had a long walk through the park. "It's a good place for thinking," He told me, "It's really big, and really beautiful, but you could still see all the skyscrapers."

"Good place for thinking? It's so big and beautiful I could get lost and never bother to be found!" I told him, running forward and spinning down the concrete pathway. My dad smirked at me and I started walking backwards to face him. "You're the luckiest man in the world, you know."

He waved away the comment like an annoying fly. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes I wonder how people will remember me."

I was taken aback. I turned around to walk with him. "W-what do you mean? You're a genius and all..." It was weird calling my father a genius when he was the one who contributed to most of my doubts and sighs of my early childhood since the age of seven. I'm not being harsh, I promise you. I just wanted to be honest. This was the perfect time.

"Sometimes I think I could do more."

I sighed sharply, holding my chin up, "You owe it to me."

He looked at me, bewildered. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I knew I should've never opened my mouth...but at the same time, it was the only time I really did like that. My mom always told me to be courteous and well-mannered, so I took that as to never tell anyone how I honestly felt. Only now did I realize what she meant. I would take out all that resentment in making trouble and trying to find power from something.

I gulped, "You heard me..."

He stopped and looked at me, sighing. "Are you tired? Do you want to go home?"

"Listen, I've been waiting since I was born for you. Every year I would wish, hoping you would come find me because I didn't know where the hell you were. It was always 'he's on tour' or 'daddy's not here anymore'. Well, I'm tired of that. As much as I love you, and you supposedly love me, can you prove it? I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanna hear from me, but for all my life in school I've been taking this all out in causing trouble and trying to find power from someone, something." I told him, and looked up at the trees. "And you're right, this place is good for thinking."

John Lennon, for once, remained silent. We just walked. I heard him mumble, "So, what did I miss?"

"Besides what I said in letters you hardly wrote back to?"

He gave me one nod, looking up.

I stopped, and I gave him a hug and we just stood in the middle of the pathway, not caring who was staring or who was taking pictures or who was pointing. Finally, this was what I was waiting for. I sighed, "We both have some catching up to do..."

I looked up, "Thanks for not leaving me behind, you know. Everyone always does."