Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it
Macbeth — Act 1 Scene 4
I do not wish this week’s Reflection to be morbid, or upset anyone, so note it does touch on Funerals. Well, to be accurate, the music played at funerals.
The first funeral I went to was that of a close school friend who died suddenly when only fifteen. I have attended many more since that day in 1970.
Minimal memories of those funerals stay in my mind. Not even those of my grandparents or parents. No doubt that’s my subconscious protecting my conscious mind from sad thoughts.
The only piece of music or song I recall from any of the funerals I’ve attended is ‘Born Free’ by Matt Monroe, played at my mother’s funeral. It wasn’t that she had a penchant for Monroe, but the song did capture her attitude to life. To live it aloud, to paraphrase Emile Zola.
Many wish a funeral to be a celebration of someone’s life. Yet, despite best efforts, sadness at the loss of someone usually overwhelms the occasion. Not helped by the glowing tributes paid by friends and family. The choice of respectful music. The sombre dress-code.
Fingers crossed that my own funeral is many years from now. But when it comes, I want it to feel like a good singalong that I’ve missed. Well, not missed. I’ll be there. Just not an overly active participant.
I’m not sure how many people watched a recent TV series, ‘Finding Alice’. Alice decides to have her, suddenly-deceased partner, Harry buried in the garden. By the way, I’m not suggesting that for me, even if my wife, a keen gardener, might think it helps plant growth. However, Harry’s ‘coffin’ is a brightly decorated box with his name emblazoned upon it and I’d love something like that. My name upon it, lots of other drawings, comments, and the like. The sort of stuff people might write on a card when someone leaves work or retires. “Sorry to see you go”, “Enjoy your new challenge”, “Hope the future brings everything you wish”.
And on the subject of wearing sombre clothing, well I’d rather there was a profusion of colour. For mourners, undertakers, and pallbearers. A cacophony of colour as vivid as a van Gogh painting. I would not ban black. But mourners would need to wear it alongside white. As in black and white stripes. I would welcome other football tops too. Yes, even Sunderland.
I wouldn’t want any mournful tributes. As Meyer Wolfsheim says in the ‘Great Gatsby’, “Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead”. I’d like funny stories told of my adventures. Of the day I went sledging, or the night I went ‘blind’, or the mystery of Harry’s kebab on the doorstep. Even my ‘Are you nervous?’ tale of a certain operation. I will be well past embarrassment and how lovely it would be to hear laughter ringing around the crematorium.
At the start of this, I said it was to be of the music at funerals. As ever, I’ve meandered off-topic. So, let’s get to the music.
I see my entry song being Blaydon Races with everyone singing along. I envisage one of those screens used at pantomimes or karaoke with the words written to help people join in the singing.
Also, I’ve always thought ‘Cadillac Ranch’ by Bruce Springsteen very apt for a funeral given the lines.
“Honey when I die
Throw my body in the back
Drive me to the junkyard
In my Cadillac”
So that could feature somewhere in the service.
I thought, ‘Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye’ would be a good song to conclude events. It could accompany my highly decorated cardboard box as it slips from the sight of the mourner’s en route to its fiery farewell. Again, people can sing along with the words up on the big screen.
Anyway, who knows. I won’t be around to choose any of that stuff, so for now I’ll hand it over to Bruce. If he doesn’t get the mourners going, nothing will
