Funeral music

Back in 2002, when Jayne’s dad died and a coworker of mine died in a kayaking mishap, I got to thinking about my funeral. I know funerals aren’t for the dead, but for the living. I sometimes even have my doubts about their use for the survivors, but I’m not sure enough yet of those feelings to disparage the whole process.

I got to thinking about how I’d like my funeral arranged. What if I could watch it from afar? This thought had consumed me when I was younger and I wrote several poems about it. After those incidents in 2002, I sat down and wrote my wishes for a funeral. They’re only advisements since, well, I’ll be dead and really can’t force my will on the living. My spirit will already be reincarnated by the time the funeral rolls around anyway. Maybe, if the wishes aren’t met, I’ll be the crying child in the restaurant where you’re trying to have a romantic dinner, or that guy with the cell phone at the theater. Hmmm.

Talk about an ego! I make the assumption I’d have a gathering and that people would come. Maybe it would be like Ebenezer Scrooge: A lunch must be provided or people won’t attend. I know free food draws newspaper people.

As an aside, I have joked at work that I’d die at my desk and no one would notice. They’d keep tossing faxes on me until I was covered. Someone might comment on the smell but then someone would say, well, that’s just Hayden.

Some things about my funeral are pretty easy: I want my organs donated to help other folks. My body is like a chariot, the old writings say, but George Harrison said it more modernly: My body is like a car taking me both near and far. So, the car doesn’t work any more. Salvage the parts for someone else and dispose of the rest. The driver’s gone. Cremation makes sense. Just make sure to remove the knives from my back! (Ouch! Had to add that for some of my coworkers)

I ask only a few mementoes be displayed. Lots of family photos would be great, but display few with me in it. I’ve never been comfortable inflicting my looks on others. I include a few books (“Ring and The Book,” “Nicholas Nickleby” and a 19th-century issue of Tennyson poetry) so maybe folks will want to read a little after they leave, and, of course, my bike. I reckon the survivors can add what they please. Maybe the Bills could add a Super Bowl win?

The Sounds of Silence

What I noticed about my 2002 note about my funeral planning is that I spent tons of time figuring out the music I’d like to have played at the funeral. No pipe organs here. I think that’s fitting since I’ve spent so much energy listening to and finding meaning in The Beatles (and solo), Yes, Moody Blues, Simon and Garfunkel, Elvis. Here are the highlights from the sound track I came up with:

The entire “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” album. Greatest album ever made. It’s also all about squandered life and anonymous death (I’ll have a blog on that soon!). Not sure if I’m sending a message here. Follow that with the song, “All Things Must Pass” for obvious reasons, and my favorite Harrison songs, “Let It Roll (The Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp)” and “Be Here Now” from Harrison’s “Living in the Material World” album. And, of course, the Bread song, “If,” which Jayne sang to me at our wedding. I still get teary thinking about it.

Oh, and don’t forget “Midnight at the Oasis.” Send those camels to bed.

Maybe this sound track could be for sale in the foyer to forego the costs of the luncheon. We won’t take checks.

Thought: There comes a time when all of us must leave here. There’s nothing sister Mary can do to keep me here with you.