Grandpa's Funeral (or Jen Remembers How to Play the Guitar)

Because a few people have asked me, I wanted to tell you a little bit about the funeral. When my Grandpa passed away, my mom called my sister and me early in the morning to give us the news. We made plans with each other that morning to leave the next day, and raced to work to make arrangements to be able to leave.

About five years ago, a bunch of us were sitting around in my grandparents' living room after some big family event--a reunion or a wedding or something, I'm sure. There were guitars and banjoes and lots of singing and music going on--I know, seriously, my family is that stereotypical Montana scene, with the folk music rocking and everyone singing along. Hilarious. My Grandpa had reached the end of his traveling days, so the only way we were able to see him was when we went to Great Falls, and that day he was loving having this going on in his living room. He told us he was going to live until he was 90, and then he wanted to go to heaven, and he started talking about his funeral. My mom's cousins, Mike and Midi, would play a song, and he would say, "I want that song at my funeral." What? We all kind of laughed it off, but he told me that day he wanted me to sing at his funeral, and he was serious.

So when we knew for certain that his time was coming (a few years short of that 90 mark, Grandpa!), my mom and I talked it over and I reminded her that he had asked me to sing. I wanted to honor that promise, so she talked it over with my Grandma, and they agreed to let me handle the music. When he passed away, I told my sister that I was doing the music and asked her if she would sing with me, hoping she'd agree to it, which she readily did. I started going through books trying to decide for sure what would be the best to honor him at his service.

Thankfully, after discussing song choices with my Grandma, she agreed to just trust my judgment and let me do whatever I wanted to do, as long as the pastor approved. After meeting with him, he quickly realized I knew what I was doing and told me I could do whatever I wanted. My Grandma did ask that we invite our cousin Stephanie to sing with us if she wanted to be involved. Steph ended up singing a couple of the songs with us (she got there a few days after we did, which meant we didn't have time to teach her all the songs, so she just picked the ones she already knew and learned the one song none of us knew while we were learning it, too).

My friend, Dave, had recently moved to Great Falls, and since he's a fantastic guitar player, he agreed to play or us (so as to avoid the 173 year old organ players we feared might have to accompany us otherwise). We picked out most of the music...then found out Dave would have to be out of town the day of the funeral and he couldn't play for us after all. Onto Plan B...JEN PLAYS. Wait...WHAT?

Since neither Amy nor I had brought our guitars with us, Dave lent me one of his GORGEOUS Taylor guitars, and Amy and I got to work figuring out ways I could play the songs. I can get by, but a fabulous guitar player I am not, especially when I have SEVEN songs to try to figure out with about 3 days notice. We spent a whole day hammering out the songs. We decided to sing two of them a cappella (which worked out just fine), but that still left me with FIVE songs to learn in about 3 days. After several hours of playing, crossing out chords, scribbling new ones in, making sure what we were doing worked, etc., we had all but one of them figured out.

There was just one song left that I was really struggling to play--the chords were complicated, I had blisters on every finger, and it just didn't sound right. Midi and Mike (my mom's cousin and her husband) had agreed to play some old folk hymns before the funeral while people were coming in, and since the song I couldn't play was the first song, we asked Mike if he could help us. He didn't know the song, but Mike is an incredible musician, so in short notice he had an amazing rendition of our first song worked out, and he agreed to play it with us.

Amy and I called our old high school choir director the day before the funeral to ask him a quick question, and Mr. Hansen gave us this advice: "Don't look at the family, don't look at the people. Look above them, or look at your music. And if you start to waver, SING OUT. More volume, even if it doesn't call for it." I took that man's advice as a teenager, and you'd better believe I took it that weekend. And somehow, blessedly, we got through it.

The only song I struggled with was an ancient chant I sang, by myself, a cappella. The first few notes were a little shaky, but once the people joined in, I was fine. I made the mistake of looking at my Grandma once or twice, but then I remembered Papa Hansen's words, and I got through it. My guitar playing wasn't perfect, but it worked. The songs were pretty, and our family was happy that we were the ones saying goodbye to our Grandpa in that way. A few of my cousins hugged me fiercely at the end and thanked me, and that made it all worth every minute of stress and anxiousness I felt about it. I wanted it to be perfect, to pay tribute to a man we all loved very much.

The funeral was beautiful. My sister and I helped our Grandma pick out the Bible readings, and they were perfect. The songs were beautiful and appropriate and fitting, and I think my Grandpa would have been happy--and we made it through without crying. All three of my Grandpa's sons-in-law (including my dad), along with three of his four grandsons, were the pallbearers. It was so touching to see my sweet, strong, handsome cousins all dressed up in suits and ties, paying tribute to our grandfather. I think their part was much more difficult than mine, especially carrying his casket to the gravesite. Don't worry, for every tear I didn't shed during the funeral, I shed at least three at the burial. It was a cold, windy day, but the sun was shining and it was beautiful (and thankfully, an excellent excuse to wear my sunglasses). At the end, my dad, uncles, and cousins removed their boutonnieres and placed them on the casket and we said goodbye.

Overall, it was beautiful, and my family is amazing. I am very blessed to be apart of this incredible, loving family--my Grandpa's beautiful legacy.

*Several people have asked, so here is a list of the songs we did. You can click on each song to go to a youtube video with a version of the song:

How Can I Keep From Singing (an old Quaker hymn)

Shepherd Me, O God (a variation of the 23rd Psalm)

The Summons (traditional Scottish hymn)

In This Place

Agnus Dei (a simple chant version) and Song of Farewell (the version by Grayson Warren Brown) are the two we sang a cappella, and I couldn't find youtube videos for either of them.

Fly Like a Bird (This isn't my favorite version of this song, but I LOVE this song--the guy who wrote it is the music leader at my church and he is amazing.)