It’s Monday and today I grieve for you. The you that was 9 years old, standing in your garage, unplugged mic in hand, singing your heart out into a career already unfolding. Today is Tuesday and I grieve for you. The you that was 16 years of age, sitting close with your small group at church; even then your singing was a sweet assuage. Wednesday finds me still in grief. For the smart young woman, so wise for her age - still so innocent; facing a cruel world with a sure assurance. A woman of strong resolve in a life well spent. And when will the time come that something doesn’t make me think of you. Remind me of another you. Make me grieve over you - again? It’s Thursday’s day to grieve for you. The you that loved all the tales of good old Pooh. The you who still had so much of your life ahead of you. The you, Katydid, I first knew. Friday’s grief burns through my heart. For when I sat out in the audience and listened to you sing on stage. First time butterflies flitting around in my own stomach on your behalf. You performed like someone twice your age. Saturday’s grief burns my future years. For the 50 year old you would have been, for the sassy grandma you would have made, for the music that has been left unpenned. And when will the time come that something doesn’t make me think of you. Remind me of another you. Make me grieve over you - again? Make me grieve over you again? Today my tears are hot and fresh again. Today I grieve over you again. Tomorrow I will grieve for you again. When will it stop? For today I grieve over you again.