“Except for Monday”: A Song of Enduring Love and Lingering Absence
Ah, where does one even begin to speak of a song that encapsulates so much yearning, so much tender remembrance? For those of us who came of age with country music as the soundtrack to our lives, Lorrie Morgan’s “Except for Monday” isn’t just a tune; it’s a worn photograph, a lingering scent, a whisper of a time when love and loss felt so profoundly real. Released in October 1991 as the third single from her poignant album, “Something in Red”, this timeless ballad quickly etched itself into the hearts of listeners, soaring to number 4 on the Billboard Hot Country Singles & Tracks chart and reaching number 7 on the RPM Country Tracks chart in Canada. It was a testament to Morgan‘s undeniable vocal prowess and her ability to deliver a lyric with an emotional honesty that few could match.
The story behind “Except for Monday” isn’t one of grand narratives or scandalous revelations, but rather one of universal human experience, filtered through the lens of country music’s soulful storytelling. Penned by the talented Reed Nielsen, the song speaks to the profound ache of missing someone dearly, even when surrounded by the ordinary rhythm of life. It’s a beautifully simple, yet deeply effective, portrayal of a love so ingrained in one’s being that its absence is felt in every waking moment, save for one.
The meaning, at its core, is a poignant exploration of grief, longing, and the enduring power of memory. The lyrics paint a vivid picture of a narrator who can navigate the trials and tribulations of Tuesday through Sunday, even Monday itself, but it’s the specific, recurring void on those particular days that truly underscores the depth of her loss. It’s a subtle but powerful nuance: the world continues to turn, the days follow their sequence, but for the narrator, life simply isn’t the same. The “except for Monday” becomes a metaphor for those specific, painful triggers that remind us of what—or, more accurately, who—is no longer there. It’s the moment you reach for their hand, only to find empty air; the habit of sharing a morning coffee, now a solitary ritual. It speaks to the idea that some loves are so interwoven with the fabric of our daily existence that even the most mundane of days can become a sharp reminder of their absence.
Lorrie Morgan, with her rich, expressive voice, was the perfect conduit for such raw emotion. Her own life, marked by personal tragedies, particularly the devastating loss of her husband, fellow country singer Keith Whitley, just a few years prior to this song’s release, surely imbued her rendition with an authentic, lived-in sorrow. While “Except for Monday” wasn’t explicitly written about Whitley, it resonated deeply with Morgan‘s own journey through grief, allowing her to convey a profound understanding of the song’s sentiments. This resonance undoubtedly contributed to its widespread appeal, touching the hearts of countless listeners who had experienced similar losses.
Listening to “Except for Monday” now, all these years later, it still possesses that remarkable ability to transport you back. It’s the kind of song that would play softly on the radio as you drove down a winding country road, the sun setting in a blaze of orange and purple, or as you sat on a porch swing, watching the fireflies flicker in the twilight. It reminds us of the tender vulnerability that is so often the bedrock of country music – a genre unafraid to explore the raw edges of the human heart. It reminds us that even when the world keeps moving, some feelings, some memories, remain stubbornly, beautifully fixed, leaving their indelible mark on our Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and indeed, every day, save for those fleeting moments of fragile peace. And in that, Lorrie Morgan gave us not just a song, but a shared experience of enduring love and lingering absence.