Lennon, or the need for more than love.

Today (well, yesterday. I am typing this at 1am...) is the 38th anniversary of John Lennon's death. A date that in my younger years had a very poetic and sad meaning.... This man was very much my first real-life hero that I adored as much as a young, idealistic kid can. To me, this man could do no wrong.
As time passed by, and after reading a few too many Beatles/John Lennon biographies, I finally got to learn about Julian, his first son, and how John mistreated, abused, and then essentially ignored both Julian and his mother, later choosing to start a new family and spend most of his "matured" life with his newborn son.
And that... well, that hurt.
You see, I come from a broken family too; I'm the son of a man that also spent most of his later life with his new family. I only saw him a few times a year, since he lived far from me and made little effort to come see me.
Because of this, I immediately felt a connection to Julian and have forever blocked my ability to enjoy John's music anymore... I just hear him and can't help but think "irresponsible, terrible father".
Many say "oh, but he grew up... matured... you shouldn't be so harsh to a man that tried to be a better man...", and to that my simple answer is this: the fact that you find yourself in his music does not mean he was a good man later on... just a good composer. I find it interesting how fast people are walking away from the works of famous actors and musicians that have recently gotten into hot waters, but seem to always be able to forgive, or downright ignore, the actions of Lennon.... and to make matters worse,  he was oh-so-very fond of talking about peace and love, but ignoring those who rightfully deserved and needed his love, presence and devotion.
Forgive my bitterness but again, I just cannot feel appreciation for a man who did not care for his family, and it bothers me that many do.
Cheers,
Josep