“Oh, ‘November Rain.’”
My wife gets emotional when we hear the song on the radio. It was the song that was played at her twin sister’s funeral 18 years ago. Tina died of suicide. The song inevitably brings back discussions of why, what could have been done to prevent what happened from happening, et cetera.
“Look at that license plate.” We were sitting at a stoplight. The vehicle in front of us had personalized plates. The numbers at the beginning are lost to history. The four letters at the end will never be.
T-I-N-A.
“We’re listening to ‘November Rain,’ and we’re behind a car with that license plate.”
Ever the observant one, I am.
“It’s like she’s trying to say something to us.”
Read the rest of this column at TheWorldAccordingToChrisGraham.com.
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