Now Playing: "Greensleeves"
This afternoon, I went to the funeral and life-celebration of the mother of one of my oldest friends. (And you are one of my oldest friends, S. I've known you since you were a teenager! Isn't that funny?)
And it sounds strange to say it, but these ceremonies were useful to the people who participated in them. Because this woman ---who was far too young to pass away--- was such an important part of her professional community that I think it was just as important to her colleagues and admirers that they recognize the reality of her death together; like it were a confirmation to each other that, indeed, they would not have this woman to depend on any longer. But the subdued bewilderment was palpable.
Over and over, the attestations of her excellence and integrity and unquestionable competence were made. And to me, for my friend's sake, this was a wonderful thing. To leave this world respected and assured of your influence on the lives of thousands? (That is a blessing that will overcome the pain of your loss, S. I am sure of that.)
I very much like the idea of being sent off by those who know you. That is essential to the dignity of this particular occasion. I hope I have that when it is my time to die.
And I hope they know what songs must be played: "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas, "This Train" by Bob Marley, and "Brokedown Palace" by the Grateful Dead. No covers. Just the studio cuts on a decent jam box and get out of the way.
Tonight, I have another beautiful song in my head.