Studio City Mom Recalls Whitney Houston

I was planning to write a column about Valentine's Day but when the news of Whitney Houston's death hit I suddenly didn't feel like writing some humorous piece about disappointing Valentine Day's gone by.

I was deeply saddened to hear about Whitney Houston and I instantly remembered the first time I ever heard her voice.

My older sister (who often was the one to introduce me to cool music) brought home that debut album. The one with Whitney Houston on the cover looking absolutely regal, elegant, courageous and mysterious. The one where when you turned it over you were struck with this statuesque beauty in a white bathing suit, head tilted toward the sun in mid stride, legs that went on forever.

The one that started it all.

It was 1985. A time when we were drowning in Madonna, Wham!, Phil Collins, Tears for Fears.  A time when I was drowning in shoulder pads and layered hair. A time when the sudden sound of Whitney Houston was not only an unexpected surprise, but a blessing.

Here was this soulful, young, spiritual wonder -- seeming like she was from another time and yet arriving to us right on time.

My sister played that album for a good week before I finally knocked on her door and asked,

"Who is that?"

Feeling in a good mood that moment my sister decided not to kick me out of her room and instead let me have a seat on her bed.

"I don't know. She's new. Her name is Whitney Houston."

And that was that. She was now ours.

We played that album every day. We even got the cassette so we could play it in the car. I finally got my own album because my sister was tired of sharing hers.

I knew every song, every lyric. I danced around to her videos on MTV and I crooned out "Saving All My Love For You" as if I had a clue what any of it truly meant.

I certainly do now.

Whitney Houston was a part of my graduation, my prom, my heartbreaks and celebrations. When one of her songs came on the radio no matter how many times I had heard it I still wanted to hear it again.

I remember in 1994 sitting at home alone watching the American Music Awards. Reba Mcentire and a very young Will Smith introduced Whitney Houston. She was in black dress that looked like she had been hand dipped into an ink bottle.

She was so gorgeous.

And then, she sang. She performed a medley that left me in tears. Not just tears - I was sobbing.

That level of talent can do that to a person.

So, on Saturday night when the text message from a friend came in reading, Whitney Houston is dead! I gasped. My daughter was with me and she looked up,

"Mommy, what's wrong?"

"Whitney Houston died." There was a pause, then,

"Who is she again?" she asked.

I thought about it and then all I had to do was sing 6 words,

"And I Will Always Love You..." My little girl's eyes widened,

"Oh, no, that was her?" she said.

I nodded. Yes, that was her.

Later that night while I was putting dishes away I heard singing in the other room.  Actually, it was belting (as we all do when we hear Whitney in our mind). It was my daughter...

"AND I I I I.......WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU....YOU.. I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU YOU..."

And, before I knew it, I was singing too.

Yes.. that was her.