There's a tradition of sorts that occurs in my family. The last song at a memorial or funeral ... pretty much any kind of farewell ... typically is selected by the individual who has uh, "left the building". That is, if the individual (1) had the time to select a song and (2) had a specific song they wanted to share.
When my cousin Karen passed several years ago - and FAR too young - the song was "On Eagles Wings". It wasn't enough that Karen was beautiful and loving, warm and terrific, and in our lives for so short a time. It wasn't enough that she was taken so quickly, so stupidly, so horridly, and left behind a husband who would never recover and sons who would be too young to remember her. The church was reduced to a giant sobbing mess as we listened to her selection of "On Eagles Wings". It was, as my mother remembered today, "almost dirty pool" to have to hear it sung so sweetly. It was the best worst musical moment I've ever had in church.
Until today.
Today at the memorial service, we were all doing alright - until a letter was read ... a full-page love letter from Verna to her husband of more than 54 years. In it, she apologized for having the occasional short fuse while dealing with her nearly unmanageable pain over this past year. She thanked her husband for asking her to marry him so long ago, praised him for being such a great father, friend, lover, business partner and husband, reminded him to be strong and happy in his remaining time on the planet, and ended by saying how proud she was to have been in love with him for all these years. That it was the single smartest thing she'd ever done - falling in love with him.
And, while we all tried to catch our breath, Ella Fitzgerald began singing "their song", the one they had danced to at their wedding so long ago.
This one is for Verna and Ernie ... Someone To Watch Over Me
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