Sunday, October 11, 2009
Anyone who knows me well knows that I want George Winston's version of Pachelbel's Canon in D played at my funeral. I love the way the song begins quietly, builds to a crescendo, and ends quietly. Like most lives do.
This might seem morbid to some, but several years ago my girlfriends and I wrote our obituaries. It was interesting to think about what I wanted to accomplish in the years I have left, who will survive me, how old I want to be when I die, and how and where I want to be when it happens. It almost felt like goal-setting for the rest of my life.
And predictably, I saw lots of grandchildren, I died before I had to suffer the deaths of any of my children or my husband, and I just went to sleep and peacefully passed at the ripe old age of ninety-nine.
Last night, I was lying in bed, idly channel-flipping when I came across a new age musician playing the canon. I actually became teary, thinking about my family and friends sitting in a church listening to music and to people talk about my life. And as odd as it sounds, I suddenly thought that I wished that when the last song has been sung and the last word spoken, someone will stand up, raise their arms to the sky and shout, "YES!" And that when that brave soul stands, others will do the same until the whole room is full of people shouting yes to my life.