Sunday, November 18, 2007
Ode to Christine
Oh, Christine. The memories flood my mind like Katrina in the Ninth Ward. When we met in 2001 . . . my, what a blissful year that was.
I was a time-hardened victim of love and loss. She, a retired cosmonaut with a sense of danger. Christine ran into me as I graffitied my name on a rock out of spite for the world that had left me behind. Suddenly my artwork changed, my life reborn.
True love indeed. For the next five years, at least.
We picnicked with Kat and Bud in the summer of '03. Then we robbed a credit union out of $973. Kat and Bud drove a separate getaway car and we never saw them again. Christine and I spent the evening drinking Coronas and watching an absolutely perfect sunset.
The longer we stayed together, the harder it was to find good rocks to write our name on. Christine ventured farther out onto shakier, steeper cliffs.
For our Wood Anniversary we went back to the spot at Riverside Park where it all started. It had been a while, and we were rusty, but our spirits were high. We discovered this rock far out past the sandbar and gave it a go. As I prepared the camera for this shot, I heard the splash you see here. This was the last I ever saw of sweet Christine.
I'll miss you always. She's out amongst the stars, just like she always dreamed about. All I can do is blog the pain away.