“Whatever you do, don’t let them play Amazing Grace…”
Deaths, including our own, are to be expected. We who have a few years on us have
lost grandparents, parents, siblings, friends. There are more losses to come, including our own.
There’s an old country song that captures the essence pf our views about death: Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die. Dying is an unavoidable journey each of us will make. But we balk at the idea of exploring its parameters and, I
believe, that we miss some of the richest conversations we might otherwise have.
As a neophyte reporter on a small daily newspaper in California, I was assigned to write obituaries. It always struck me odd that the editor assigned obituaries to the rank beginner. Like me. 
Insofar as the obituary often contains the last words about someone’s life, being assigned to write them always felt like a privilege. After all, obituaries and letters to the editor were always vying for first- and second-place in readership popularity. For both readership and respect, I took special care to honor the decedent.
Some people live big lives, others barely stir a ripple. Even so, I believe every human being deserves a proper send-off, with words of love, and respect, and honor.
It’s my opinion that we don’t talk enough about such things. When ignored, death and its attendant responsibilities pile on to the grief loved ones are feeling—and we can’t remember whether Mama said to play Amazing Grace at her service—or, “whatever you do, don’t let them play Amazing Grace. That old song needs a rest.”
Too often we put off talking about our wishes, or their wishes. “Too gloomy,” someone says. Someone else diverts attention with a “please pass the potatoes.” And good-natured chatter again fills the room. No talk of death today.
But I believe death is the greatest curiosity of life. If you agree, I think today’s podcast may be helpful to you. I pray that you will listen to Rosemary Thornton’s experience of “temporary death.” Here’s the YouTube link.