Blogs are so passe and pretentious. Oh well, here's my blog about music that's stuck in my head when I wake up in the mornings along with adventures of the Cash family and wacky wacky crazy wacky shenanigans.
In 2012, music lovers were immediately drawn to Brittany Howard and her blues/rock band Alabama Shakes. I was hooked at track 1 and have been constantly listening to this band's 2012 and 2015 albums. They're good, just go listen to them dammit!
Today's song was a surprise, it's track 6 of the 2012 album "Girls and Boys" It's definitely an unusual song to have stuck in your head- under two minutes in length- the song is called "Goin to the Party"
It's about somebody getting drunk at a party. So neat.
Have you seen the delightful 2014 animated film "The Book of Life?"
It's good, and you should see it if you haven't. It is themed around the Mexican holida dia de los muertos. Disney and Pixar had their own film, Coco, also centered around this same holiday come out last year, probably casting a shadow on The Book of Life, maybe forever?!?!?!?
Anyway, there is music in the Book of Life. Lots of it is borrowed from other sources, life Mumford and Sons and Radiohead, but there are some original songs as well.
One such song was stuck in my head, titled "I Love you too Much"
I had the occasion this weekend to sing at a cousin's funeral, second cousin to be precise. I had never met him, but it was nice to be involved with the sweet and brief ceremony that took place Saturday at the North Ogden cemetery. I was backed by my brothers, dad and sister-in-law on guitars, banjo and fiddle. I think we put together a pretty nice number.
My mother's cousin asked us to sing Leonard Cohen's (now well-known) "Hallelujah" from his 1984 album Various Positions. I've never listened to Cohen's music. It's probably time, since I've heard he's a masterful songwriter.
You've probably heard this song, but have you heard the songsmiths' rendition of it?
Here it is:
Singing at a funeral always makes me reflect a bit more on life and death. If it doesn't do the same to you, something is wrong with you! (haha) This cousin was laid to rest at the North Ogden cemetery near the tombstone of my own maternal grandparents. I have an unusual tradition of leaving a coke can and a tube of flavored chapstick for them when I come visit. Grandpa loved his Coca Cola classic, and Nani was an Avon lady and she frequently gave me flavored chapstick as a kid. Here's a picture- I really miss these two.
I know not a lot of people read this blog and I'm OK with that- I do it mostly for me and my family. So I feel it appropriate to share the experience I had when I watched my grandpa die in 2005.
I had a great relationship with my maternal grandparents. They watched me when I was young, before I started school, while my mother worked. I remember always feeling happy to be there with them- I was loved and welcome.
When gma and gpa got older they moved closer to my home and I used to spend Wednesdays at their place where grandpa would work hard (even though he was in his late 90's!) to prepare a delicious meal that we could enjoy together. He would make soup, pasta, creamed corn, tuna fish sandwiches, and on days when he was tired he would give me a 20$ bill and send me to KFC to pick up a chicken pot pie- or on rare occasions he would order a pizza. Then we would eat and just talk. They were interested in me, my life, and what was happening at work and the University, as well as my complicated dating life. They were great company and I loved these lunches we got to share regularly from about 2002-2003.
In 2005 grandpa got prostate cancer. He was 97 years old at the time, and although he had slowed down a bit, he was still strong, sharp and easy to talk to, as long as you raised your voice a bit so he could hear. Because of grandpa's age, the Dr's agreed that treating his prostate cancer would be hard on him, so they chose to just let it be. But soon after that, the cancer spread to other parts of his body. I remember him telling me that he could feel the cancer everywhere in his groin area- it had spread dramatically in a short period of time.
He spent a few days in the hospital before it was determined that his time had come, and he was sent home on hospice care.
We rallied the troops and together as family stayed with him to care for him as he quickly deteriorated and to care for my fragile grandmother as she came to terms with losing her husband of 60+ years. The night before grandpa passed, I stayed overnight with my Aunt Shanna, as we helped him to stand when he needed to urinate. It was a long, rough night, but I feel humbled and honored to have been there to help my grandpa that night- he was embarrassed that we had to help him do this- but I consider it a gift to have been able to care for him at his most vulnerable, as he did for me when I was a toddler.
The night of his passing, I was there with my mother, father and grandma. Grandpa was basically asleep, and when he would wake his words were slurred and in was clear he was in a lot of discomfort and frustration.
During a quiet moment, my mother got close to Grandpa's ear and said something along the lines of "daddy, you've lived a good life, it's time to let go. Don't worry about us, don't worry about mom, we will take care of her." Grandpa's eyes were shut, but it felt like he was listening.
A few moments later, he woke up and began speaking to people that didn't seem to be present. He seemed hasty and anxious to say what he needed to say, and without going into too much detail, he used words and phrases that are used in sacred LDS temple ordinances, before falling back asleep. This would be the last time grandpa would speak to us.
Not much time passed and then Grandpa suddenly became alert, his bright blue eyes opening wide, almost in awe as he stared about the room, almost like he was seeing something that we couldn't see. He looked around the room again, and again, completely alert, but unaware of the presence of me and my mother as we tried to communicate with him.
Then, completely calm and solemn, grandpa closed his eyes, took one breath. Stopped for a bit, then took his last breath, as I watched the life drain from his face and body. It was peaceful, beautiful. It was a gift to be there with him, my mom and this last moment. I wasn't scared- I was completely calm and almost joyful as I said my goodbyes to a man who was such a big part of my life, and who himself lived to be nearly 98 years old.
I miss the old dude, but feel grateful for the whole experience.
Some time ago I shared a song by Martha Wainwright called "Hearts Club Band" a song which I still listen to frequently, because, by golly, it's good- also it's her own song, not a cover of The Beatles' classic.
The song stuck in my head, also by Wainwright, is called "Radio Star" and is a song of her own as well, not a cover of the Buggles' 1979 classic (Video Killed) the Radio Star.
I really dig this song- take a listen, I love the way Wainwright structures this song and the way her raspy vocals wail throughout- I find her to be a tremendous talent-- see if you agree.
