Play This Song At My Funeral

 

About five years ago I heard an instrumental version of this song on my Bose radio playlist. I did not know the lyrics but the song seemed very familiar. Listening to the melody choked me up and brought tears to my eyes.

"Where did I hear this song?" I thought. I racked my brain and couldn't figure it out but the familiarity was there. I thought maybe I heard it in one of those old Western movies where pioneers were trekking across America via the Oregon trail, dodging Indian attacks,  the sweltering heat and blizzards to finally arrive at their new home in the West. I looked up the lyrics 

"If you miss the train I'm on, you will know that I am gone

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles,
A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles,
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.

Lord I'm one, Lord I'm two, Lord I'm three, Lord I'm four,
Lord I'm 500 miles from my home.
500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles
Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home.

Not a shirt on my back, not a penny to my name
Lord I can't go a-home this a-way
This a-away, this a-way, this a-way, this a-way,
Lord I can't go a-home this a-way.

If you miss the train I'm on you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.
A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles,
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles."

Nope. That wasn't where I heard this song. But I do know why this song is familiar.

As you know I believe in the Afterlife. We're just here on earth in this body to learn. Our real home is in the Afterlife or as others call it.....Heaven.

Now when I die, and we all die. I know I've talked about my impeding demise often on this blog but it is going to happen....eventually. I don't know if there will be a service for me. A funeral or a memorial. I have requested than there be none but once I'm gone, I no longer have any control over what happens to mark my time on earth in this iteration of one or my many lives. But if there is a service please play this song "500 Miles." And preferable the Peter, Paul and Mary version. Coincidentally, Mary and I share the same birthday, November 9th. I knew there was a connection!

And please, PLEASE......DO NOT PLAY "AMAZING GRACE." I swear to God, almost every funeral or memorial service I've attended they play "Amazing Grace." This was particularly graceless when my cousin Bud died. He was the same age as me. He loved "Phantom of the Opera." He wanted that song played at his funeral. His caregiver, his sister, chose not to play it because she thought it would be "inappropriate." And yes, she had "Amazing Grace" played at his funeral. 

Pat (or whoever) will take care of my final exit, DO NOT PLAY "AMAZING GRACE" AT MY FUNERAL. 

Play this song......"500 Miles." To me, this is the perfect sendoff for me in this life of mine. Especially the Peter, Paul and Mary version. 

Thank you folks and have a wonderful day and week!

Chrissy's Eulogy For Her Aunt Sis

This past Thursday was the funeral service for one of my favorite first cousins. By father had ten brothers and those brothers had thirty-three (legitimate) children. Four of those children were born in 1941. Me, and my twin cousins Bud (Edward) and Sis (Joan) and Louise. We all graduated high school in 1959 (see graduation photo below)

From left to right me, Joan (Sis), Louise and Bud - 1959

Last week Sis's sister Janet (and my cousin) sent me a Messenger message on Facebook informing me that Sis had a massive heart attack the previous Saturday and was on a ventilator and they were going to take her off the ventilator because  there was no hope for her. She was going to die and indeed she did two hours after they took her off the ventilator. 

Janet told me that Sis's funeral service would be at the James Terry Funeral Home in Downingtown, the same funeral home that I held services for my parents and many of our Tipton relatives over the years. I am very familiar with that funeral home, I have been there in person many times. However, this time I could not be there because of my caregiving responsibilities to Bill.  Also, it is a long trip (2 1/2 hours) to Downingtown and at this time of my life, I'm just not that good at long road trips. When we first moved to southern Delaware fourteen years ago, Bill and I often drove "home" to Pennsylvania, sometimes as much as once a month. We haven't been back in several years now. 

I felt bad because I did want to go to Sis's funeral service because, even though we had lost personal touch over the years (she lived in Lancaster Pennsylvania) we still maintained the once a year Christmas card tradition. 

During my youth growing up (late Forties and early Fifties) my brothers and I were often treated to a "trip to the country" to visit Aunt Mabel and Uncle Ed" and their five kids. Their house didn't have running water or electricity and an outhouse but that didn't matter to us "townie kids". We lived in a second floor cockroach infested apartment in the white trash section of Downingtown (Pop was a hillbilly and we were poor). A trip to the county was indeed a treat for us.

Can you spot me? I'm the third (tallest) boy from the right. Sis is the blonde pigtailed girl. Date about 1947

More Tipton cousins, this time with Uncle Rich and his kids.  Again, I'm the tall kid with his arms folded. Date about 1949. Sis is the blonde holding her baby sister Linda.

More ragtag Tipton brothers having summertime fun in the country with our Tipton cousins and one of their black little girl neighbors. Date about 1951. Of course I'm the tall skinny kid with my hand on my hip. 

In addition to the fresh air of the country, we LOVED our Aunt Mabel's fried chicken and biscuits. And to think she cooked that chicken and biscuits on a wood burning stove and only had a hand water pump to help clean up afterwards. Best fried chicken I've ever had in my life!

I did so want to go to my cousin Sis's funeral and was so disappointed that I couldn't.  On Thursday night I got on my computer and went to the funeral home's website to leave a tribute to my beloved cousin and was very pleasantly surprised to find that they had live streamed her services!  Oh my gosh! 

I watched the whole service with took forty-four minutes. It was so comforting to see that room where I sat during the services for my Mother and father and other Tipton relatives. In a way watching the lives stream was better than actually being there because I could watch the services and also switch the camera to watch the guests, which I did (video not included in this post). I was able to identify most of the guests.  What a wonderful thing to do in this time of COVID and our digital age, to enable family members to attend comforting services without actually having to make the trip.

This video clip I have posted is of Sis's niece Chrissy telling a vignette about her impulsive move to California after she finished college from her home in Pennsylvania. California, the Promised Land. Of course Chrissy almost immediately regretted her decision to move to California, she was immensely homesick. So when she received a letter from her Aunt Sis with Sis's secret fried chicken recipe, she got a little bit of home in California.

That was just like Sis to do something like that. Chrissy describes Sis's personality to a T.  Sis was one of those forces of nature. When she entered a room, all heads turned. You knew she was there because he made sure you did. She wasn't perfect, and she did have her "chinks in her armor" (nice way of putting THAT Chrissy), but everyone LOVED Sis. She will be greatly missed. 

Thank you Jame Terry Funeral Home for recording Sis's services. So grateful. Now I have closure to that wonderful relationship I had early in my life with one of my very favorite cousins. 

Bob's Memorial Service

Jim and Bob September 15, 2012
after they moved out of their doublewide into a temporary apartment in Lewes, before they moved into an assisted living facility

Well folks, I was hoping to speak at Bob's funeral but that's not going to happen.  That's because he's not going to have a funeral.  That's a shame because, to me, having a funeral service cathartic for the survivors.  Doesn't mean anything to the deceased of course but it is very helpful and necessary for the loved one's survivors to deal with their grief and to pay their respects.

Bob's friend Bart yesterday that informed me that Bob died this past Saturday night at a hospice center in Milford, Delaware.  Bob's  partner and spouse Jim was with him at the end.  I was so glad to hear that someone was with him at the end.  I can only hope I am that fortunate when my time comes, as it surely will someday.  Bart also told me that Bob's remains will be cremated and that he wanted his ashes interred at the Delaware Memorial Veteran's cemetery in Milford.  But there is a glitch, Jim wants Bob's ashes.  Bart said Bob's last wishes were that his ashes be interred at the Veterans' cemetery. That's Jim, possessive to the end.  This was always a problem I had with Jim, overly possessive but there are some spouses are that way.   They feel the need to keep their spouses on a short leash because of their insecurities. Thank God Bill isn't that way.  Let me say that again, THANK GOD!  I'm not that way with Bill either.  My father was that way, I understand even if I do think it is one of the most selfish things a partner can do. 

February 23, 2013 - Bob and Jim waiting for their daily prescription pill intake at the assisted care facility

So is Bob having a memorial service?  I received an e-mail from Bob's nephew and he said that the pastor of the Metropolitan Community Church had scheduled a memorial service for this Friday, September 27th.  Jim wants it on a Saturday.  Thus the next date their pastor has available is October 25th, quite a distance down the road.  Jim's doing again.  I probably shouldn't be writing this (but this is my blog and I let it hang out, most of the time anyway), out of respect for Jim who did take good care of Bob during his long decline but I've always had a problem with Jim's possessiveness and lack of sensitivity to others in whatever respect.  I'm just expressing my gut feelings here, all right?  So many times he's done this.  And that's all I'm going to say about Jim.

Marsh 28, 2013 - me and Bob and Jim in the dining room of the assisted care facility where they were living

There is still no obituary in the local paper for Bob and I doubt if there ever will be.  I created a Find a Grave memorial for Bob.  I also notified Camp Rehoboth of Bob's passing and sent a wonderful photo of Bob, when he was at his most handsome before the long decline.

I guess that's about all I can do.  I would have liked to say something to Bob's friends at a service but that doesn't look like it's going to happen which is a shame.  

June 28, 2013 - Jim, me and Bob at the assisted living facility in Lewes where they were residing

Note:
I just got an e-mail from Bob's nephew. Bob's memorial service will be Saturday, October 25th at 11 AM.

I don't know if I'll attend.  Maybe I will, maybe I won't.  I'll have to see how I feel at that time. I'm very disappointed that it is so far out. 

More Memories of Bob

"Big Bob" and "The Cajun" - 2009
Just one of Bob's many friends 

I continue to be surprised by my emotional reaction to the passing of my longtime dear friend Bob McCamley. I don't usually get this emotional over deaths, even family members or friends.  But I guess I didn't realize how much Bob was part of my life.  

Bob and my brother John (the pastor) - 2007

This morning I was making phone calls to try and find out what arrangements are being made for Bob.  I called the nursing and rehabilitation center where Bob spent his last days.  They told me they couldn't even tell me he passed, only his nephew could tell me that.  

Bob and one of his two nephews the day Bob entered assisted care - 2013

I called his nephew who has been taking care of Bob's affairs.  No answer. I left a message.

I called the assisted care facility where Bob and his longtime partner Jim lived until last earlier this year when Jim had to move Bob to a full care facility.  They said Jim was there and put me on hold.  I finally hung up when no one came to the phone.

Bob's friend from Metropolitan Community Church Miles and Tim - 2010

Then I decided to call Bob's nephew's wife.  She answered on the second ring.  I told her who I was.  I had met her two years ago when she and her husband and his brother and the brother's wife put Bob at the assisted care facility on Bob's birthday, December 10th, 2013.  She immediately said "Oh I am so sorry for your loss honey."  

Bob and my Mother - both died in September (9-16-2013 for my Mother) - 2007

When she said that I lost it.  I couldn't talk.  There was silence.  I tried to talk but I had the biggest frog ever in my throat trying to get out. Tears started to well in my face.  

Bob and Jim at their home - 2009

I COULDN'T TALK.

So embarrassing.  Finally I manage to squeak out "Thank you. Do you know of Bob's arrangements yet."  Of course all I got out clear was "thank you" before I started to bawl again like a little girl.  I don't know if she even understood the last "do you know of Bob's arrangements."  More silence from me.  

Bob and his dog Bonnie - 1987 - they're together again

Finally I got myself together . . . . somewhat . . . and said "I'm am so sorry."  She said "Don't worry honey, I understand. We'll let you know when the arrangements are made. Glenn (Bob's nephew) will call you." 

Bob and Bill - this is the last time Bob had a meal at our house - 2009

So embarrassing.  And to think this morning I was going to ask if I can speak at his service.  I've never spoken at any funeral service before but I feel a strong need to speak at Bob's service.  I have so many stories to tell of our times together that I know those who were privileged to know him and love him would like to hear.  But after this morning I don't think I can do it.  If I did I would be one of those sobbing messes who draws more attention to himself than the person they are there to honor.  At my Mother's funeral I solved this problem by asking my brother, who is a pastor and speaks at funeral services for a living, to read my written words.  Perhaps I will do the same at Bob's service.  I wish I could speak but after this morning's embarrassing episode I doubt I can.

This is hard folks, very hard. 

Below are pictures of better times:

Bob in front of John Wanamaker's where he used to work - 1980

When we both used to work in Center City Philly, I would meet Bob for lunch.  He worked at John Wanamakers and I worked at Girard Bank, only a block away.  Oh those were the days.  Bob hated that job but we had good lunches together.

Bart, Jim and Bob - 2012
Every time I take a picture with Bart in it he sticks his finger up his nose which ceased to be funny about ten years ago

This is Bart, Jim's former partner who Jim urged to move to Delaware from his home in New York state because he couldn't afford to pay the taxes any more.  Jim told Bart "We'll look after you."  Bart is 94 years old now and still living by himself in his house and doing fine, or as well as can be for a 94 year old.  Bob is gone and Jim is in assisted care which just goes to show you, things don't always go as planned.  Bill and I plan to visit Bart this Friday to see how he is doing.

Bob at his home - 2012

Bob loved his home (a doublewide) on twenty-two wooded acres outside of Georgetown.  No one lives there now.  Bill and I were there yesterday, it is overgrown. So sad. All the happiness for so many that used to happen there.

No longer a home - the love is gone

One year I met Bob in Provincetown for a really crazy vacation.  We both had button down, corporate type jobs in the city (Philadelphia).  Oh boy, did we ever let go when we vacationed in P-Town.  I took this picture of Bob and his then current boyfriend Gino (who has also passed).  A black lesbian heard our merriment and asked to join.  And the kind of person Bob is he said "Come on and join!"  She did and this is the resulting picture which I always said I was going to blackmail him with.  Never did of course.

Gino, Bob and ? in Provincetown, Mass - 1978

Women were always drawn to Bob. He had that kind of personality.  Bob didn't mind unless they started to think a "step further" which he wasn't willing to go or, even more drastic, matrimony.  Bob was 100%, no bisexual was he.  Here is another threatened blackmail picture (that I never used) that was taken during one of the not infrequent bacchanals at The Ranch.

Bob and ? - how did she get in his doublewide? - 1980

As you can see, I have a TON of pictures of Bob.  I hope you don't mind me sharing some of them with you.  He was my friend and I will miss him . . . . a lot.  These are the memories I have and will cherish as long as I live.

I believe this was Bob's last visit to our home - he didn't drive any more after this visit - 2012

Back Home In Delaware

We laid Mom to rest yesterday.


Under a cloudless, clear blue sky at noon yesterday; John, Barbara,  Isaac and I arrived at the James J. Terry Funeral Home in Downingtown to pay our last respects to our Mother.  


Jim Terry and his staff at the funeral home had everything perfectly in place.  The soft music from the memorial DVD of old photos that I made of Mom was playing as we entered the viewing room.  


Mom was resting in her white metal casket, surrounded by a colorful rainbow of flowers and two candles glowing softly at each end of casket.  Seeing those beautiful flowers reminded me of the many times I took Mom to funerals of family members and how she enjoyed seeing the many flower arrangements.  She always asked me to check the tags to see who sent the flowers.  She wouldn't be doing that this morning.  Already, another reminder of how much I will miss her.


The doors to the viewing room were opened at 1 pm to let in her friends and relatives.  The first people I saw were my good friends and former high school classmates, the "Two Judys."  What a pleasant surprise. Neither one of the Judy's knew my Mother personally, but they still stopped by to pay their respects.  Friends, there is no greater treasure in this life than good friends.


Another classmate of mine, Jack, also came through the door to pay his respects.  That was the way the rest of the day went, full of pleasant surprises.


Perhaps the only time where I really began to lose it was when my mother's sister, Aunt Ruthie, was wheeled in by her husband Spike to see her sister who basically raised her when she was a young child.  Ruth was the youngest in my Mother's family.  She was the daughter of my grandfather's third wife.  My Mother was the youngest daughter of his first wife.  My Mom's mother died when she was only a year and a half old.   Ruthie was inconsolable.  She stretched her thin arms out from her wheelchair and placed them on the edge of my Mother's coffin.  She looked up at my Mother then dropped her head between her arms and her thin shoulders began to shake as she cried.   I gave her some tissues to wipe away the tears that were streaming down her face.  After a few moments Spike wheeled her away to the side of the room.  Later on I glanced over and saw her, still starring with pained disbelief at her sister who was now gone from her life forever. 

Ruthie on my Mom's shoulder

Ruthie, my brother Isaac and Mom

The rest of the service went well.  My brother John, the pastor, performed the services.  Mom would have been proud of him.  Our nephew Ikey read a passage from the bible.  Later, Ikey said he was too nervous and did "terrible", that was not so.  His Mom-Mom would have been proud of him.

All too soon the services were over.  Jim Terry made an announcement that the pall bearers were to step aside while those remaining went up to the front of the room to say goodbye to Mom for the last time.  

Then it was time for Mom's last trip.  

Our funeral procession snaked it's way through the late afternoon traffic on Rt. 30 to Rt. 322.  We would be going to the Hopewell Methodist Church Cemetery just past Guthriesville.  Mom would be laid to rest just a short distance down the road from where she lived for over fifty years on Hopewell Road.  

When John and Barbara took Mom south with them last October 17th to spend the winter; John had always promised he would bring Mom home.  Today would be that day.  

Bill didn't attend the former services.  He can't handle that.  But he did want to pay his final respects to his good friend Betty.  Bill and my Mom were only four years apart in age (he younger.)  Forty six years ago when Mom invited me to a Thanksgiving Dinner, I said I would come with only one requirement....that I could bring my friend.  Mom had never met Bill before but she knew that he was my "friend."  She reluctantly agreed.  She didn't regret her decision.  Bill and my Mom became best friends. 

Bill waiting

Bill wanted to be with his friend Betty today. After everyone left the cemetery, Bill stayed and waiting for the men to come and fill in Mom's grave.  The men took a long time.  But Bill stayed with Mom just like he did all the times he took her for her cancer treatments, visits to the doctor and Mom's favorite activity, shopping trips to the dollar store.

It was dark when the men finished with Mom's grave.  

Bill left for our home in Delaware in the dark.  Bill has a hard time driving in the dark.  He will be 82 years old this Sunday.  But he wanted to make sure his friend Betty was properly taken care of this one last time.  

Bill did get lost but he finally arrived home last last night.  

I woke up at 2:30 this morning.  I left Mom's former house at 4 o'clock to go home.  I don't like driving in the dark either but I wanted to go home too.  

I had a lot of time to think on the 2 1/2 hour drive to our Delaware home just off Rt. 1, a few miles down the road from Milton, DE.  Bill was surprised when I drove in the garage at 6:30.  He was glad to see me.

Now we can begin anew.  I'm happy, no longer sad.  Mom is in a better place now.  She is not suffering or in pain.  She is not a burden (which she always feared her whole life) to anyone.  She is in a perfect place now.  Someday, we will join her.  

I go to work today.  I'm ready for the old, normal, sometimes boring routine.  But, my life will never be the same.  She's gone.  

No sadness here.  Mom lived a good, long life.  There is only happiness when we relive our memories of this wonderful and unique woman.  She was the best Mom that three totally different brothers could have had.  We were sometimes a handful as only three boys only a year apart in age could be.  But we never stopped loving our Mom.  She was always the Boss and we always listened to her.  She is the reason we are who we are today.  Her legacy will live on. 

Goodbye Mom.

Mom with her Three Terrors -  Me, John and Isaac - 2005