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  • Writer's pictureKim Catron

My first (and forever) love

When I was 18 my cousin asked me to go see a tarot card/palm reader with her. It was the summer of 1988, and I had just graduated high school. It seemed like a fun thing to do.

She started with my palm. It turns out I have an old soul, life lines that etch their way all around my hand, many past lives (Eskimo queen, woman of possible ill-repute in Victorian England…although she assured me she meant only that I had lots of interested men, nothing more salacious than that!)

She moved on to the cards.

I picked a “wish” card. She told me to wish for anything, anything at all.

But I was 18 and was interested in only one thing- love.

And because I didn’t really believe in any of what she was telling me I wished. I wished BIG. I wished the wish of all wishes, the wish of my soul, the wish of my heart, the wish for all eternity…I wished to meet and kiss Davy Jones.(Yes, “Daydream Believer”, “I Wanna Be Free” of The Monkees Davy Jones, 25 years my senior - all 5”2 of him).

But I was 18 and was interested in only one thing- love.

And because I perhaps believed that perhaps there was some power to the wish, I quickly changed it.

20 years later the wish came true. Not the one I changed it to, but THE wish! It seems the wish card doesn’t allow for last minute changes. Davy was singing at Mohegan Sun in Connecticut and I convinced two friends to go with me to see him. They weren’t fans but they were fans of watching me watching him. There came a point in the show where he encouraged the audience to bring some tips up to the stage for the waitresses and if we’d write down the name of a song, he’d sing it for us.

I opened up my wallet, wrote down my request, and walked it up. Call it fate, call it the power of a wish, call it whatever you want, but the time of the card had come. As I went to place the paper on the stage, Davy turned and saw me. He held out his hand and read it.

“Kiss me” was my request.

There were a lot of high fives as I made my way back to our table and many eager women ran to the stage with their unrequited attempts. No one else got a kiss that night, only me.

My husband was the first person I called to tell him the news. “I’m so happy for you, Honey,” he said. And I knew he really first (and forever) love.

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