I’ve been listening to a lot of music lately because:  1. We’re baking cookies and that calls for all the traditional Christmas carols by all the traditional artists—and John Denver with the Muppets and Pentatonix (John Denver sings with the Muppets but not with Pentatonix . . . they didn’t exist when he did), and 2.  It’s time for the annual Service of Remembrance and I need 17 plus minutes of something(s) to play during the presentation part of the service.

I’m sure that last one sounds simple but, as I’ve said before, it isn’t.  There are so many good songs—and so many that you think are good until you actually listen to the words.  Then you find out they aren’t at all appropriate on so many different levels.  I’ve been told I need to listen for the tone the song sets and not the lyrics because people don’t listen to the lyrics.  Well, I’m a people and I listen to the lyrics and I can’t be the only one.

In the course of all this listening I’ve danced around the kitchen to Bing Crosby and The Andrews Sisters singing “Jingle Bells” (no mental pictures, please), sung along with the Muppets “Twelve Days of Christmas”, and shed a tear or two with the likes of Kathy Mattea and Jim Croce.  And through it all, I’m reminded of something that I’ve known for years, but rarely ever verbalize.  Music is an important part of life, even if we don’t acknowledge that importance.

Throughout the centuries music has been used as the most basic form of expression; history has been passed from generation to generation through songs memorializing great events or people. Couples often have “their song”, mothers sing their children to sleep, a heartbroken teenager—and often a heartbroken adult—will find that one song that sums up their sorrow and put it on repeat for hours on end.  On the other side of that coin, they may find one that lifts their spirits and choose happiness instead.

However, I can’t imagine a time in life when music is needed more than at death, and I’m not referring to the songs chosen for the funeral service.  Although those are important and should be selected thoughtfully and with the life being honored in mind, the greater contribution can come before Death ever calls and then long beyond his visit.  You see, music—something so simple and so commonplace—has the power to bring peace to the journey of the dying—and comfort to those left behind, for it gives voice to their grief when their own words fail them.  As Victor Hugo so aptly put it, “Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent.”  I don’t know about you, but I can’t think of a more accurate description of grief.

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