In the Summer, Mimi would open the windows in the front of the house and the patio doors in the back and the warm Summer wind would course through the house. We would sit down at the kitchen table where she would serve us each glasses of lemonade made from a powder mix and grilled cheese sandwiches made from thick slices of Velveeta and slightly burnt. Then we would sit in the living room and play cards together on a big lapboard she kept.

So help me, I can taste the burnt grilled cheese and the lemonade and I can smell that summer breeze and feel it warm on my face just as sure as I can feel these keys as I’m typing.

I wanted to preserve that memory with music, but rhyming about burnt grilled cheese and powdered lemonade felt trite. Putting too fine a poetic point on it seemed to cheapen it for me. So I picked up my guitar and just started playing. Over weeks it worked out into this short little piece. It's certainly nothing grand. It’s as small a vignette as the actual memory and it makes me sad and happy, just like the memory.

I miss you Mimi.