I have never really been a fan of the late walrus of love, Barry White, and in fact we walked out of a concert many years ago because the sound was so bad. But when The first, the last, my everything came on the radio - as it was a moment ago - I used to jokingly call it 'our song' and sing it to my wife. It made me smile today to think how she would react and how bemused the dog looked whilst I sang it to him instead. It's schmaltzy and overplayed but still opens a door to good memories of the life we used to have. My kind of wonderful, that's what you are.