You really shouldn't laugh in church.
And you really shouldn't laugh in church during a funeral.
But there I was, with a huge smile on my face, laughing in church.
The organist was playing "Sailing Away" by Styx and it just made me smile.
I was at the memorial service for my college roommate Teri.
I hadn't spoken to Teri in a few years, so the news of her death came as quite a shock. She'd had a very aggressive form of breast cancer that took her life within 6 short months.
The memorial was really such a great reflection on the friend I knew so well, way back when. It was quite remarkable to hear people who knew her when she was a young child, to the people with whom she'd become close to in recent years, speak about her in exactly the same way I would have. Meaning, her positive attributes, her foibles and her spirit were consistent, no matter what stage of life the various eulogizers spoke about.
I mean, a later-in-life friend talked just casually mentioned her need for Diet Coke and I can remember times 20 years ago, when we desperately needed to make a detour to pick up her favorite drink. Simple things to make you smile.
But what really got to me, was the music.
Ken, a later-period roommate of hers was a piano player, and, to give the service a breather between some of the speakers, he played instrumental version of songs that Teri loved, that somehow seemed appropriate for the day.
"Is that Duran Duran?" my wife asked, correctly identifying "Save A Prayer." Awesome.
And when he dipped into the opening notes of "Come Sail Away," I immediately knew I would be digging in the garage when I got home.
I remembered a letter she sent, where she excitedly wrote about meeting and interviewing Styx for the cable TV company she produced videos for. I remember how special and thrilling it was for her at the time, and it just filled me up to know that that experience and that love of the band made enough of an impression on her, that "Sailing Away" became a part of remembering who she was.
It's a sad thing to lose a friend, but it's a good thing when she can still make you laugh in church.
Below, I'll put a little excerpt from her letter, dated September 27, 2000. It might be fun to read, as the song plays.
So here's a cool rock and roll story for you: MediaOne, now AT&T (could I work for more of "the Man" than AT&T, I ask you) has this partnership with Music Choice. They have a featured artist every month and they produce a concert, which will air on our channel all month long. October artist? Styx and REO Speedwagon. "Hurrah!" I say to myself. "Get me an interview!" I shriek to my boss (Nicely, of course). She does, I go down last week with my bandmate, Jen, in tow and my buddy/co-worker, Jim, and we meet and interview all of Styx and two members of REO Speedwagon . . .
So the interview goes well, I'm happy, nearly delirious in my good fortune and we run to our seats that George, the manager, has secured for us. 20 rows back, excellent seats, rock out to the show. Styx plays first and Jen and I are in heaven . . .
At the end of the Styx set, Tommy Shaw starts throwing out guitar picks and slapping the hands of the fans. Jen and I bolt down the aisle to get a guitar pick for Joel. Tommy makes his way over to our side of the stage, recognizes us, points at us (the double point, one for each of us) and blows us this huge kiss! Jen and I sort of stop, look at each other and say, "That was for us, right?" and we're transported immediately into the land of 12-year-old geekiness Heaven!!! Tommy Show blew us a kiss! Very cool.
Aw, come on, PJ, it's OK to smile and even laugh in church, and to be able to laugh, even briefly, at a funeral is truly a gift. I'm sorry about Teri but I loved reading your blog this morning.
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