I do not think my song will end, while flowers, grass and trees, abound with birds and butterflies, for I am one with these. And I believe my voice will sound, upon the whispering wind, so long as even one remains, among those I call “friend.” I shall remain in hearts and minds of loved ones that I knew, and in the rocks and hills and streams because I love those, too. So long as love and hope and dreams, abide in earth and sky, weep not for me, though I be gone. I shall not really die. By Johnny Hathcock – Grief Loss