My AfterLife Blog

By the second half of 1997, we’d lost Princess Diana, Biggie Smalls, and my grandmother. In 2004, my grandfather died. My oldest sister, Angela (a vocalist), had a recording of her singing Amazing Grace that was played at both funerals. On June 8, 2008, my mother called to tell me a drunk driver had killed my older sister and her boyfriend. Another funeral, another playing of Amazing Grace. In an act of rebellion (a tiny homage to my brilliantly defiant sister), I went to Walmart and bought Natalie Grant’s then-latest CD to play instead. But having never listened to any song other than In Better Hands, it wasn’t quite appropriate either. Then in February 2012, my stepdad died suddenly of a heart attack. The man had a fabulous vinyl collection – Eagles, Santana, Credence Clearwater Revival. Guess what we played? Hint: It wasn’t any of those, nor Natalie Grant. To say death has significantly impacted my life is an understatement. Planning for a death you’re prepared for is hard enough. Watching my mother arrange two unexpectedly in four years was gut-wrenching. And while she did her best, it didn’t feel like them. As a former music teacher, to me, there’s nothing more important than music. It’s universal. It’s emotional. And at a funeral, it’s a unifying medium that joins mourners and speaks to them as a celebration of the ones they lost. I have a constant soundtrack playing in my head. I even have funeral tracks picked out – a bit basic and a bit indie… just like me. Blame it on the losses I’ve had, my ADHD, or 14 years spent involved in music. It’s probably a combination of all three. Regardless, I know what I want played at my funeral. And sorry, Angela, it’s not Amazing Grace.