I called my sister Mary late last night. I was on the back porch drinking IPA and playing guitar. She couldn't talk. "I'm in a casino," she said, whispering as if no one speaks loudly in a casino. "I'm walking into a concert."
Before I could ask which band she was seeing, we said our goodbyes. I dearly love my baby sister. This morning she sent me a video from her seats, Chris Isaak singing "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You."
Typing those words now, I feel the actual title should be tighter. I'd make it tighter. Too many words. Dilutes the impact. But you know the song. We all know that song.
For Calene and I, that was our wedding song. When you pick a wedding song it's just one of those many choices you have to make from the caterer, hotel, church, photographer, and all that other stuff. But when the words are sung and the wedding is a memory, the song becomes your own. Part of a fantastic memory. You hear it and suddenly grab your bride and dance a waltz around the kitchen floor after dinner, barefoot and misty, reciting your vows through an old Elvis song.
So it is that I sit on the back porch again, singing along with Mary's Chris Isaak video, far more than misty. Right about the time I was writing this blog last week Calene fell asleep and never woke up. My Queen is gone.
I miss you so much, baby. Forty great years. A love story for the ages. Not a word left unspoken.
I remember the day we met like it was yesterday. Our first kiss in that Newport beach parking garage. Our last. Those thousands (millions?) in between. Holding hands. Conquering the world together. Our boys. Your smile. That laugh. Your righteous belief in truth and justice.
There was a moment after we first met. The White House in Laguna Beach. The Blasters were about to get on stage. A bunch of us were getting together for the show. I barely knew you, but I looked across the table and I knew for certain you were the woman I was going to marry. No reason why. You hadn't shown any interest in me. But I knew. Forty years ago. I knew. I think you did, too.
Blink. One minute you're here. Next minute, my Queen, you're gone. Long live the Queen.