I had made split pea soup in the crock pot for dinner last night, which meant that during the time I typically prepare dinner, we had time to just hang out. I took Lindsay upstairs with me on the bed, and sang to her while I played my guitar. She looked on with amusement.
Into the chorus of the song I was singing, Lauren came in and sat on the bed. She folded her chest over her legs and collapse, rear end up, in a sobbing mass of little girl. I stopped playing and set down my guitar.
"What's the matter?" I asked, stroking her back.
"I don't want to tell you," she sobbed.
"Are you worried I will be mad?" I asked, "Because I won't be mad."
"If we talk about what's making you sad, you will probably feel better."
She heaved a heavy sigh, and looked up at me, her face damp. "This will be the day that I...die?" And with that began another eruption of tears.
"Oh honey, it's a song...it's not even a song about me...it's a song about Buddy Holly..."
"I don't like it." she said, jutting out her chin. "Don't sing it any more."