Legally Rambling (9/29/2009). It had been one of those days. However, I stood watching the finish of my seven year son’s soccer game, they had just suffered their first loss - a team that had won every game since the kids started playing together (years ago!). The winning was over and I thought - wow.
While I was trying to gather my thoughts, my wife approached me and casually announced that she was moving out, another wow crossed my mind, and then my cell phone rang. It was my brother telling me to get to the hospital now. I don’t remember how fast I made it to the hospital, I don’t even remember the journey there, or thinking about anything else, I just remember praying the entire way.
I parked in the same lot that I had parked in for the last thirty days, placed the ticket in my glove box (where it remains today) and walked the same walk into Presbyterian Hospital – Dallas. This time it was not the same – in fact, it was entirely different. I entered the room, the last to arrive, it was packed. The room was full of nurses and they all gave me a not-so-welcoming glance in a way that announced it was not good. My father glanced at me and then my brother took me out into the hall to explain the situation. Despite the month in ICU and movement to the floor days before, it was not good, my mother was dying. It was just a matter of minutes. We gathered around my mother, prayed over her and waited. We waited for her to begin the great Christian adventure. Then, she was gone. Although I knew I was in God’s great hands at that moment, the grief was immense.
After my mother passed, my father looked up and said, what are we going to do now? An interesting question, because with tears running down my cheeks, in one of the most emotional moments of my life I thought as a probate lawyer I should know the answer to that question. I had no idea. I prayed. In many ways I still can’t answer that question. Sure, I know the ends and outs of probate: the Courts, the administration, the tax issues, but the question hit on a much deeper level for me.
In a deep state of grief, my father, brother and I began to plan the funeral. Now if you have ever planned a funeral you realize there is a lot to do – lots of choices. I volunteered to give the eulogy. Which if you have ever given one before, is not an easy task, but you get through it. I guess it’s difficult because the number one fear of people is public speaking. I have always enjoyed a good eulogy and I have to admit that I like giving them.
I also volunteered to prepare the music for the service. You see my mom’s one request, well the one request that I could remember at the time, was for “Rock and Roll.” She didn’t want “Funeral Music” as she stated. Now my mom loved music – all kinds of music and she listened to music all the time.
Music is an interesting thing – it defines us in incalculable ways and it defines moments in life and at times who we are. I can remember listening to Jeremy Camp - Live Unplugged, the entire time my mom was in ICU. It really hit me.
Sure when you get right down to it - in a legal since, its just an artist’s work protected by copy right law with some royalty issues thrown in for good measure. But it’s much more. Having played the violin as a kid and trumpet for five years I could read sheet music, but it’s still more than notes on a page. It connects us.
So with everything else swirling around in my head, I set out to burn the intro and exit for my mom’s funeral, with no legal directive, no moral will, no instructions, nothing, well except for the statement that “I just want Rock and Roll” and the hours and hours over the course of a lifetime of listen to music with my mom. You see my mom had MS and for her music was a great escape. So, after hours and hours of down loading music I realized that I had of course, down loaded hours, and hours, and hours of music. I was amazed about how much good music my mother had introduced me to - whether buying CDs for me, trading CDs with her, or frankly often with her purchasing concert tickets for me. Picking the music and burning that CD is one of the hardest things I have ever done in life. From Buddy Holly to Elvis, to James Taylor, to U2, it was all there.
When I arrived at Sparkman the next morning, tired, emotionally worn down and not sure if I was ready to give the eulogy, the only thing I could think about was the music. I was assisted by the Sparkman staff (truly wonderful people) and the music was met with their smiles - it was going to be a different type of service. They commented that the last time they witnessed something like this was for an Earth Wind and Fire funeral. Made me laugh, then they obliged my one request - we cranked it up and we stood and we listened. In the solitude that exists before any funeral, before any people arrived, with just me, my mom, and the Sparkman staff, and with tears running down my face – again, I listened. It was one of those lifetime moments. Just can’t really describe it. My mom had her music – “Rock and Roll!”
Ramble on …….
While I was trying to gather my thoughts, my wife approached me and casually announced that she was moving out, another wow crossed my mind, and then my cell phone rang. It was my brother telling me to get to the hospital now. I don’t remember how fast I made it to the hospital, I don’t even remember the journey there, or thinking about anything else, I just remember praying the entire way.
I parked in the same lot that I had parked in for the last thirty days, placed the ticket in my glove box (where it remains today) and walked the same walk into Presbyterian Hospital – Dallas. This time it was not the same – in fact, it was entirely different. I entered the room, the last to arrive, it was packed. The room was full of nurses and they all gave me a not-so-welcoming glance in a way that announced it was not good. My father glanced at me and then my brother took me out into the hall to explain the situation. Despite the month in ICU and movement to the floor days before, it was not good, my mother was dying. It was just a matter of minutes. We gathered around my mother, prayed over her and waited. We waited for her to begin the great Christian adventure. Then, she was gone. Although I knew I was in God’s great hands at that moment, the grief was immense.
After my mother passed, my father looked up and said, what are we going to do now? An interesting question, because with tears running down my cheeks, in one of the most emotional moments of my life I thought as a probate lawyer I should know the answer to that question. I had no idea. I prayed. In many ways I still can’t answer that question. Sure, I know the ends and outs of probate: the Courts, the administration, the tax issues, but the question hit on a much deeper level for me.
In a deep state of grief, my father, brother and I began to plan the funeral. Now if you have ever planned a funeral you realize there is a lot to do – lots of choices. I volunteered to give the eulogy. Which if you have ever given one before, is not an easy task, but you get through it. I guess it’s difficult because the number one fear of people is public speaking. I have always enjoyed a good eulogy and I have to admit that I like giving them.
I also volunteered to prepare the music for the service. You see my mom’s one request, well the one request that I could remember at the time, was for “Rock and Roll.” She didn’t want “Funeral Music” as she stated. Now my mom loved music – all kinds of music and she listened to music all the time.
Music is an interesting thing – it defines us in incalculable ways and it defines moments in life and at times who we are. I can remember listening to Jeremy Camp - Live Unplugged, the entire time my mom was in ICU. It really hit me.
Sure when you get right down to it - in a legal since, its just an artist’s work protected by copy right law with some royalty issues thrown in for good measure. But it’s much more. Having played the violin as a kid and trumpet for five years I could read sheet music, but it’s still more than notes on a page. It connects us.
So with everything else swirling around in my head, I set out to burn the intro and exit for my mom’s funeral, with no legal directive, no moral will, no instructions, nothing, well except for the statement that “I just want Rock and Roll” and the hours and hours over the course of a lifetime of listen to music with my mom. You see my mom had MS and for her music was a great escape. So, after hours and hours of down loading music I realized that I had of course, down loaded hours, and hours, and hours of music. I was amazed about how much good music my mother had introduced me to - whether buying CDs for me, trading CDs with her, or frankly often with her purchasing concert tickets for me. Picking the music and burning that CD is one of the hardest things I have ever done in life. From Buddy Holly to Elvis, to James Taylor, to U2, it was all there.
When I arrived at Sparkman the next morning, tired, emotionally worn down and not sure if I was ready to give the eulogy, the only thing I could think about was the music. I was assisted by the Sparkman staff (truly wonderful people) and the music was met with their smiles - it was going to be a different type of service. They commented that the last time they witnessed something like this was for an Earth Wind and Fire funeral. Made me laugh, then they obliged my one request - we cranked it up and we stood and we listened. In the solitude that exists before any funeral, before any people arrived, with just me, my mom, and the Sparkman staff, and with tears running down my face – again, I listened. It was one of those lifetime moments. Just can’t really describe it. My mom had her music – “Rock and Roll!”
Ramble on …….
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