what song would you like played at your funeral???

Well, I'll have to think of something that is isn't already associated with funerals in my family. So far; if I hear even one note of Last Post I start bawling. Ave Maria is another one that makes me cry.

At my stepfather's funeral; there was no music. It was a short graveside service, then we all went to the bar for drinks on him. He had put aside enough money for us all to get nicely toasted (nice guy, eh!).
He loved country music and gospel. Well, a friend pulled out a banjo in the bar and started playing "Man of Constant Sorrow". We were all drinking, singing real loud, and toasting. It was beautiful and perfect.

For my own funeral I would like for my brother to sing the song he wrote for me. It's beautiful and does a good job of capturing who I am and what I am about.
He's already agreed to this: and I will sing a song if he passes before me.

I would also like my friends to play the music for my party.
Nothing could be better.
Of course; they will have to play some of my favorite songs! :wink:

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My son and I recently worked together on the internet and over the phone for five or six hours, choosing songs for his father's funeral. We have always been extraordinarily close, but that process changed us. We were both determined to consciously choose rather than rely on convention. We talked about his dad, told stories about him the other didn't know... My son knows a lot he didn't about his dad as a young man.

My husband had been a Civil War buff--a war buff in general, really--but we had significantly enjoyed Ken Burns' series and had both loved the haunting violin of that soundtrack. "Ashokan Farewell" was the first track. A little about it:

Jay Ungar and Molly Mason have been playing music together since 1978 and have become widely known for their work with Ken Burns and other public broadcasting favorites, Great Performances and Garrison Keillor's "Prairie Home Companion."

They also run Fiddle & Dance Workshop at Ashokan in upstate New York where, each summer, people come to learn traditional music and dance. Jay Ungar first wrote "Ashokan Farewell" at the conclusion of one of those summer workshops.

JAY UNGAR: "Ashokan Farewell" is a tune that I wrote unintentionally, really. It was a moment of deep emotion after the summer camps at Ashokan had ended. It was the third summer, and it was an experiment every summer, you know, pulling this together. And it had been such a deeply moving experience and the community of people and the feeling of unity that we had had through music, and being away from the regular world was so important to me that when I'd gotten home, I had a sense of loss and longing; and I was looking for a Scottish lament, you know, that would express how I felt. And I couldn't think of one, so I just started playing, and this tune came out. And it brought me to tears...
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My husband's favorite song was "Old Man" by Neil Young. He had had a difficult, but loving relationship with his father--and we agreed on this one as our second. I loved standing in that austere place, among family, friends from work drifting in, worlds colliding in tribute to my husband and Neil Young's defiant voice rising to beseech his father to see him. The word bittersweet has renewed meaning for me.

I know this is cliche, but my son had found the most mournful, primeval rustling of bagpipes. Amazing Grace. I like the unintentional chaos of the first sounds as the bagpiper adjusts. It's wild, out of order, I don't know, a cry that somethings wrong.

We had been looking for a filler piece to fill the tracks to 30 minutes and my son's wife had heard something that reminded her a lot of Ashokan Farewell. After a bit of searching, thinking, she found it. She has a good ear. It wound up being a piece from the soundtrack of Legends of the Fall, written by Jay Ungar. Lovely. A coincidence.

I loved to hear my husband sing. He had a voice like Neil Young's, sort of folky with an edge, and I begged him to sing to me alot. I drove him crazy over some Dan Fogelburg albums. Captured Angel and Souvenirs. There may have been a more appropriate one, but I didn't consider one other than Souvenirs. It seemed right.

We had one more and I knew I wanted Mozart's Requiem. Another cliche, but it was filled with almost as much dread and hopelessness as I was and since I couldn't stand up and scream, Mozart's Requiem was the next best thing. The problem was, my son said he'd heard something, too, he thought was really necessary as the last track. I decided to defer to him. This whole process was mostly for him, and I was so glad he was partaking in this bit of therapy with me. He said his was a piece of music he'd seen on one of his favorite shows. He played it for me. It had been used in a scene on Band of Brothers. Mozart's Requiem.

This process of arranging my husband's Gathering saved me. It forces you out of your head and heart and makes you do things. My husband wanted to be cremated and this is akin to a one way ticket to hell in these parts, but we did as we damn well pleased and my husband would have loved it. The florist used flowers and greenery to make a focal point of the blue marble urn, bearing my husband's ashes, and the myriad of family photographs and those of my husband.

No one stood over his body making inane, bizarre remarks as people here are accustomed to doing. No formality, dirges, rote... Two men he loved spoke of him as he was, not after the post-death whitewash. It was the most beautiful tribute I've ever seen. My son stood behind the podium with the five or so pages he'd written the day after his father died. He left them here for me.

It is good to do these things.

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What "parts" are you in, Lash, where cremation is so frowned upon? Hereabouts it's commonplace.

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Lash.

That very fine post made my heart ache.

I felt privileged to read it and I thank you for it.

I'm so sorry.

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Dust in Wind Lyrics from Kansas

I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind.
Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind

[Now] Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy.

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind.

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Joeblow wrote:

Lash.

That very fine post made my heart ache.

I felt privileged to read it and I thank you for it.

I'm so sorry.

How sweet of you. Thank you so much.

Merry--

I'm presently in South Georgia, about as rural as one can be and still be on the planet. I saw shock on people's faces when I told them. People still came to the funeral home for a "viewing", though we announced there wouldn't be one. A few people have actually told me they were "concerned" about the disposition of a soul when the body has been cremated. I don't know if it's Muslims?--(Jewish tradition?)--that strongly discourages cremation.

The ceremony was quite different too. I think when you're conditioned to believe things should be done a certain way, and there's rarely deviation from that way, you tend to frown on alterations. No matter.

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That was a beautiful tribute, Lash. You and your son did the best you could possibly do. Wishing both of you strength.

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Thank you so much, nimh.

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Good on you, Lash, for preparing a tribute to your husband that had meaning for you and your son - and hopefully others understand all of you better as a result.

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Thank you for the good thoughts, ehBeth.
<smiles at ehBeth>

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I was thinking pretty much the same thing, Lash. If we've got to go through these rituals, then for heaven's sake, make them mean something real. Good for you! Very Happy