The Final Mix

I don't mean to be morbid, so I apologize ahead of time if this post offends anyone. Today I was cleaning out the closet in my music room (these are the types of projects you do when you are a teacher and summer break starts). I came across an unmarked CD, and put it in the player to see what it was. Once I heard the first tune, I knew immediately. I had been wondering where this disc was!

About a year and a half ago, my aunt committed suicide. She was a sweet woman in her way, but she also had some mental problems (as many suicides do). She was meticulous about details in her life, and so she did not leave much to chance as to her final wishes. She was a big music fan all her life, and we often bonded over talking tunes. (I recall when I was so upset over the death of one of my guitar heroes, Stevie Ray Vaughan, she immediately took me out to the music store and bought me a handful of albums...only another music fan could know that a trip to "church" was the best thing for my spirits that day). She never had kids of her own, so she doted over her nieces and nephews instead.

This disc that I came across today was a mix of tunes that she made in "preparation" and requested be played at her service. (As my mother and uncle were rather devastated by the happenings, the planning and organizing of funeral arrangements fell to me, my sister and my cousin. We made the decision that people would not want to sit around and listen to an entire disc of tunes, so we played it before the service as people arrived as a compromise).

Anyway, being a fellow music fan, I was quite interested in her choices of tunes. About half were religious. This was not surprising, as she was raised catholic and I imagine in her last days she would be thinking about the hereafter. A particularly beautiful rendition of "Ave Maria" has caught my attention today, I've listened to it several times. That really must be one of the most beautiful songs ever written in the history of man. She was especially close to my deceased grandfather (her father), and so she bookended the disc with two painfully innocent songs extolling a father's love for his child. Needless to say relations in my family were somewhat complicated (who's family isn't complicated?), so I had to smile at the purity of these two songs. Almost willfully resurrecting (or creating?) the happiest memories possible from a childhood. What is the second to last tune? For a woman who lived by her own code and went out on her own terms, it could be none other: Sinatra's "My Way." Nice. I can dig that.

That also got me thinking, if I knew ahead of time, what kind of Final Mix would I make? Would I just put my favorite songs on a disc, or would I try to tell some story, try to make some sort of statement? I don't know. These songs weren't thrown together by accident, and by the subject matter she was definitely trying to "explain" through music some important things about her life. None of the songs are the least bit depressing; they are all happy, peaceful or hopeful. I know that she was not happy much of her life, so I think she found a great amount of solace and comfort in the music she chose to listen to. Several of these songs talk about having had some tough times, but then sing with optimism of the days ahead. Interesting. While Bunny (that was her name, she legally changed it to "Bunny" when she was young) and I bonded over a love of music, we definitely came from different generations. All of these tunes on her disc (other than the religious ones) are firmly in the pre-rock & roll days of pop. Think Sinatra and his ilk.

Anyway, I just finished putting the disc on my iTunes under the title Bunny's Final Mix. RIP.