Funerals and music

Music has always been a part of my life. I remember as a small child Brother Carver (yes that is what everyone called him) led the children in songs on Wednesday nights. In elementary school, I learned to play the violin. In junior high, I added the viola and the oboe. In elementary school, I had one year in choir. They did parts by age, so I was supposed to be an alto, but I did not really figure out how to sing alto until middle school and I played the viola which always had harmony. I learned to sing alto in church. I would start with the soprano part and then when the notes converged I would move over to the harmony.

In high school, I was one of several who sang at weddings. Weddings are cheerful, happy occasions. A wedding is a beginning, filled with the promise of good things to come.

I first started singing at funerals in my twenties. I'm not a solo singer, I sing as part of an acapella group. Some funerals stand out in my mind more than others. When my grandmother was ill, I sang at a funeral of an older lady. When they closed the casket, the tears started to flow because I knew that my grandmother might not live much longer. Somehow I managed to sing in spite of the tears that day.

There is something about music at a funeral that touches the heart. My Grandmother Marshall was one of the first close deaths for me. One of the songs was Beyond the Sunset. The next time it was sung at church, I ended up leaving the auditorium in tears. It took a few years for that reaction to wear off.

As each person is unique, so each funeral is unique. Some funerals are very small, private affairs with just immediate family. Sometimes they are small because the person has outlived most of their friends and family. Other funerals are large with filled auditoriums - people who had a wide sphere of influence both at church, in their workplace, and community.

Funerals are really for the living - a formal way of saying good-bye. I appreciate the stories that are told, many times things I would not have known about the person.

During the past year, too many of the funerals I've attended have been close to me - my father-in-law, one of my closest friends, the husband of a close friend, and yesterday a special woman who had been in my Ladies' Bible class.

When we sing at funerals, we have to maintain our composure. Dan, who leads our chorus, often reminds us that we are singing for the family . . . we can grieve later. For it is a reality, if one of us loses it, others will follow. There have been a few funerals where I did not sing, because I knew I could not - it was too close - I needed the comfort of the music.

As I waited at the cemetery yesterday, part of me is weary of funerals. I'm tired of loosing friends and family. I grieve over the loss and incapacity that is a part of the aging process. But funerals also have a message of hope. Aging and death are all part of life. Everything that lives will eventually die. And while death ends a chapter in our lives, death is not the end. I believe that death is a journey, an entry into a new life. We leave this life with tired, broken bodies and enter a new life where everything fresh, healthy, and radiant. For those who have died, death is a victory, a new beginning. For those of us left behind, we know that the spirit lives on.

Death is a mystery, a journey into the unknown. Our bodies are programmed to live, to fight death with all our might and strength. When friends move away, we can still call them or go visit them. They can tell us about their new life. When people die, they can't share with us their experience to make it easier for us. It is our faith that sustains us, our faith in God and an eternal human spirit given to us by God.

The beauty of the songs at funerals is that they remind us that death is not the end. Funeral songs are often upbeat happy songs about heaven and the new life to come. They bring comfort to those who are grieving.

Yes, I'll keep singing.

The Art of Sending Cards

I will confess I'm not good at sending cards. Well - not totally true, I am VERY good at sending Christmas cards. I've only missed one year out of 36 years of marriage. And I have a long list. But Christmas is just once a year. It is one big effort and then it's over.

But this post is about cards that you send to people year round. Sympathy cards, get well cards, encouragement cards . . . And yes, I send out a few. But my style is more email and phone calls. And those are important - no doubt. And a phone call allows two way communication. I am good at phone calls.

Recently I was asked to display the cards that my friend, Debbie received while she was ill. My daughter helped set up a display at her funeral. I filled a box with them - a conservation, acid free box. These cards are a testimony to how many lives my friend touched. And she kept them to encourage her as the illness ate away at her life.

Cards - the kind you mail - can be a lasting encouragement. A long time ago in a Bible class, probably one for women, someone said to keep the cards that have special words of encouragement or appreciation . . . the ones that tell you that you are special and why. Then when you are down in the dumps or have had something discouraging happen, you can pull them out and remember that you are loved and appreciated.

A card or short note is something that someone can touch and reread, it is something tangible, something that can be enjoyed and appreciated over and over.

Not long ago, I read these thoughts in Alexandra Stoddard's Grace Notes:

A letter always seemed to me like Immortality (Emily Dickinson)

The advantage of the telephone is that it lets us hear someone's voice, but it leaves nothing for history or posterity. Pick up your pen, not the telephone, and write your son at college.

A note on a postcard can be savored and remain on someone's desk for months. Stack a collection of postcards on your desk and start using them to send grace notes to friends - a joke or a thought for the day.

Email is also a good way to encourage people. I'm a person who saves things rather than throws things away as a rule. So I save cards and emails. But for those of you that are the people that throw things away . . . keep a few of those encouraging cards and emails - to read later when you need an emotional pick me up.

I need to send more cards and short notes letting people know I'm thinking about them when I know they are going through difficult times or to let them know how special they are to me, or to thank them for things they do.

Magi Boxes

As the Christmas season approaches, our congregation has been participating in the Magi Project each year. It is a fairly simple concept - you pack a shoe box with items for children. There are four age groups (Baby-2, 3-6, 7-10, or 11-14) and you chose to pack for a boy or a girl.

Some years I have packed a complete box myself. This year and last year my Care Group got together to pack boxes. It is a whole lot more fun to do it as a group. We planned for 20 boxes this year - 10 for boys, 10 for girls.

We each brought a different kind of item - shampoo, bath gel, tooth brushes, tooth paste, hair clips, flashlights, wooden puzzles, pencils, pens, t-shirt, Spanish Bibles, etc.



This year we used clear plastic boxes with garland decorating the bottom. The box will also be useful after the fact. Plus it was one less step - last year we wrapped the boxes - but you have to wrap the lid separately -so that takes time.

Doing any task as a group makes it fun - and the variety of things brought this year was so heart warming. Our whole congregation participates - not just one Care Group. I'll be interested to see how many boxes we send this year.

Our boxes will go to children in Mexico this year. We have to have the boxes ready early in November. What a great way to get into the Christmas spirit!