On Friday evening, like so many previous Friday evenings, I went to my squash club to participate in club night.  As I entered the changing room I said a cheery hello to my friend Alex.  As I opened my locker he came up to me and asked if I had heard what had happened to Everton, a stalwart member of the club and a regular opponent on club nights.

I hadn’t heard…

…on the previous Saturday cycling home from the club, Everton had been killed in a road accident.

It took sometime for this news to sink in.  It was particularly shocking for many reasons.

On that dreadful Saturday I was also at the club. I recalled asking Everton why he was going at lunchtime instead of staying to play on a Saturday afternoon as he often did.

He told me he had to get home to see his daughter, so it quickly dawned on me that I was one of the last people to see Everton alive. What if I had engaged him in a longer conversation…or delayed him to book a game?

And all the time, his image, his voice, his very person invaded my thoughts.  I found it difficult to believe I was not going to see Everton again.

Everton was one of the nicest, most dignified people you could ever wish to meet.  He always had a smile on his face, a witty repost when teased about how seriously he took the game, an eagerness to congratulate an opponent for a good shot that won the point and the ability to enlighten and enliven a changing room conversation on any topic.

He never swore nor said a bad word about anybody.  Although an intelligent man, he seemed to want only to be a good father and a reasonable squash player.

If there was one person who deserved to live a long and happy life, to see his children grow up, to win a few more games of squash, to be loved and respected by those who knew him, it was Everton.

The club is putting on a memorial evening on Wednesday which I and his many friends at the club will attend, and donate money to the charity his widow has chosen.

I cannot fathom why his life should be cut short so cruelly but it upsets me to my very soul. I will attend the funeral, and try to give as much comfort as possible to his widow, children and family, some of whom will be coming from the Caribbean, others from the Midlands…Everton never lost a soft black country accent.

Many members of the squash club will be there too, as they were as devastated at the news as I was, for to know Everton, if only for an hour on the squash court, was to like and respect him.  To know him for much longer was to love him.

Everton’s death is also making me reassess some of  the articles on My Last Song that promote the view that a funeral should be the celebration of the life passed. Well, this view is of funerals of individuals whose lives have run their full course. Looking back on such lives will recall the achievements of the person, the love of their wives, children and grandchildren, the passage from young adulthood to middle age, to older age and then to their natural ending.

But Everton’s life will not be marked this way for it ended  far too soon, and for me and and for those attending, his funeral will be sad almost beyond endurance.

Winston, my Jamaican squash partner, knew I was working on My Last Song and invited me to the funeral of his cousin, a founder member of a well known reggae group.

I turned up at the South London church a few minutes early…just as well as within a short time it was full to bursting with friends and family members from London, Brum, the Caribbean and the US.

I sat just behind a space where the musicians and female singer were positioned.

The pastor began the service with a brief introduction, and after that simply acted as MC, introducing the first hymn and then the many members of the family who each gave excellent warm, moving, honest tributes. People cried, people laughed, they honoured and celebrated the life that had passed with dignity, warmth and honesty.

After each tribute, a hymn or song was sung,  listed in the colourful and impressive order of service leaflet…more of a magazine.

The words of each song were displayed on a large screen above the platform at the front of the church to ensure everyone would join in.

The lead singer started each song with a big, gospel voice that she soon needed to use to the full to be heard above the mourners.  The band, with an excellent Hammond organist and drummer, added to the wonderful aural experience.

An elderly aunt from Jamaica gave her tribute in a call and response manner which soon developed into improvised singing with the band somehow knowing what cords to play when.

The sound system was so good that when a piece of music the parted had recorded for his funeral was played, some people looked around to see if he was there in the church.

The service over ran by at least 30 minutes, but the pastor didn’t care. It was a religious service and an uplifting event. The staff of the funeral director tried in a low key way to hurry things along but soon gave up.

From the church we went to the cemetery where, in Jamaican tradition, the men took off their black jackets and filled the grave with spadefuls of soil after the interment.

The interment prayers and hymns were accompanied by a trombonist who stood a distance from the graveside. His mournful minimal phrases seemed sometimes to hover above the crowd.

And then it was off to the wake. I can’t say I remember everything about it, but it was in a huge hall and lasted many hours.  There was, I recall, copious amounts of food available, lots of laughing and shouting, great music, people coming and going, and a bar at which I was never allowed to buy a drink.

It was a warm evening and the crowd spilled outside where the smell of barbecued food and fragrant tobacco filled my nostrils.

Some hours later and as it was getting light, I arrived home.  That, I thought, was a funeral.

Not surprising that the Law Society Gazette has covered My Last Song as we have lots of excellent advice on the importance of making a will.

Much of the legal and probate advice was supplied by Damon Parker, one of the country’s leading experts on estate planning and a partner of law firm Harcus Sinclair.

His article on the effects of intestacy was a frightening reminder that there is no excuse for not writing a will.

Once written, signed and witnessed, there’s a space in the My Last Song Vault for the scanned will to be stored, accessed by the executor or whoever the Vault owner gives the second key.

Some of the legal advice on My Last Song was suggested by the Law Society, so I was pleased that they also spread the word via their excellent publication and website.

The editor also got into the mood of My Last Song by suggesting farewell songs such as  Going Underground by The Jam, Living in a Box by the eponymous 1980s band, The Verve’s The Drugs Don’t Work and AC/DC’s Highway to Hell.

The General Medical Council has issued guidelines which advise doctors to be more sympathetic to the wishes of the terminally ill they are treating.

One of the more recent articles to appear on My Last Song encourages people to fill out a death plan.  And, helpfully, we have put a Death Plan form in the Vault section of the website.

My Last Song also has advice on Advance decisions, formerly known as Living Wills, to enable people to decide what level of medical intervention they want, or don’t want, when terminally ill. We  recommend the use of the Compassion in Dying Advance decision.

The My Last Song Death Plan enables some interesting and previously ignored decisions to be made when planning for the end. These include:

• Where you want to be for the final days;
• Who you want to care for you;
• What you want to see – the pictures, ornaments, the views;
• What you want to hear – music, poetry, readings;
• What you want to smell – incense, scented candles, oils;
• How you want to be touched – massaged, stroked, hands held.

My Last Song also understands the importance of being free from worries or concerns, and so it has lots of advice on putting your affairs in order, and a section in the Vault where you can list everything you want your executor or close family members to undertake so that you have less to worry about as you face the end.

If you’re blogging and getting to this via tweet, you probably too young to think these issues are important yet. Fair enough, but consider older family members who you can help by talking to them about issues that otherwise are difficult and embarrassing.

You can first encourage them to create their farewell songs, and then move into the more sensitive areas that might otherwise get ignored until it is too late.

After all, we only die once and it should be the ending we want.

Some months ago I spoke to an animal loving neighbour about My Last Song and its advice on funeral planning.  She said I should have a section on pet funerals.

I tried to ignore my intense dislike of dogs who want to have sex with my leg or nuzzle into my groin or try to lick my face after using their tongues as moist toilet paper.

I put aside my loathing of cats who deposit their poo in my seedbeds, their fleas in my carpets and make an unholy noise outside my window most nights.  As for rodents and reptiles…why would anyone want to share their home with a rat or a snake?

Goldfish are ok, but I would get a bit bored with organising their funerals as they invariably float belly up after three or four days in my little goldfish bowl.

I concentated hard as she told me that when her family’s dog died a few months ago, she insisted that it was given a dignified funeral. She said it was an opportunity for the children to understand life and death, to ask questions about what happens once we die and to realise it’s fine to express emotions when we are sad.

She encouraged her children to recall their memories of the dog,  to write a poem about the pooch and to make a little memorial to go over its grave at the local pets cemetery.

I told her that I would add some content about pet funerals to My Last Song.  When she hoped her deceased dog had gone to pets’ heaven I made my excuses and left.

Pet heaven indeed!  Can you imagine the turmoil up there – cats chasing mice, dogs chasing cats, foxes slaughtering chickens (if they qualify). And who pays the vets’ fees? (Fades out to All Things Bright and Beautiful, All Creatures Great and Small).

There’s a strange absence of certain popular music genres in the lists of fave five farewell songs currently displayed on My Last Song.

These are Ska, two-tone and goth music. The latter is particularly curious, as Goths and funerals seem to be to go together…all that black clothing and elaborate ritual stuff.

I’m always impressed with the Goth ‘look’  and a bit curious about what a Goth lifestyle must be like.  I had assumed there would be many Goth songs that would be in people’s fave five farewell lists, but no. So, if any Goths read this, please put this right and submit your choices.

As for ska and two-tone, again I thought that some of the original fans of these genres who are now getting on a bit might want to submit the five songs they want to be remembered by, or played at their farewell events/celebratory parties.

So come on rude boys and girls, think of your favourite ska and two-tone tracks and send them in.

I’m about to do a deal with an leading on-line florist which supplies high quality funeral floral tributes and sympathy flowers. It will mean visitors to My Last Song will get a good discount.

At the same time, two of the main ‘messages’ within My Last Song is to have a green funeral (and force grown flowers are not green); and to use the funeral to donate money to your favourite cause, or that of the deceased loved one.

The link between flowers and funerals goes back thousands of years, as a contributor points out.  And even today, many people automatically send or take flowers to the funeral. Funeral directors assume that flowers will be part of the event, though will willingly organise and fulfill charity donations in lieu if asked by the family.

Traditional cultural habits often override more contemporary views at funerals.  So most families organising the funeral of a loved one will want funeral floral tributes to be part of the event.

If you want your funeral to raise money for a good cause rather than spent on flowers, make this one of your funeral wishes that you place in your Vault so that your family don’t make the (wrong) choice on your behalf.

Two stories on the BBC website have started me thinking.  The first – ‘Lack of sleep linked to early death‘ – covers research that shows that too little sleep can lead to, yes, an early death.

This is a somewhat misleading piece of reporting because, as stated late into the story, poor sleep is probably caused by other health problems and these are the likely causes of ‘early death’ rather than the lack of sleep

The second story was the report of the verdicts of accidental death in the cases of two County Durham women who died when an inflatable artwork blew away.

My Last Song lists several strange ways to die, and will have to add ‘falling off an inflatable artwork’.  This list demonstrates how random death can be…whether it is the cumulative effect of poor sleep or an accident at a pleasure park.

And while it is true that we on average we are likely to live longer now than at any time in history, who can say when the grim reaper knocks on our door?

So, don’t put off the important planning for that time – your funeral wishes, your will, putting your affairs in order.

And to help you, My Last Song provides you with your own unique Vault in which you can store your end of life information so it is readily available to your close family so they don’t have to sort out a mess when they will have quite enough to concern them. (Such as ‘How much has he left me in his will?’ – ed)

I have been considering the last songs I want played at my final events. I will have an atheist funeral so no hymns. But as I write those words, I think of older family members that will be shocked that if I didn’t have some sort of religious element in my send off. Still, I can’t be dishonest so no compromises. The funeral songs will be secular, and reflect my love of jazz and soul music.

My wake will be a good party, going on for several hours. A good party means good music, so my playlist will have soul and ska classics, jazz dance, two step, lovers rock as well as some songs that are the soundtrack to my life, and which will mean something to those who know me.

And, if I still have enough money left, I will tell my executor to organise a memorial celebration on my birthday.  And this should give him enough time to book a good live band. I will make the playlist for the gig.

I will be able to create these lists of musical choices thanks to My Last Song.  In the music section, you can create playlists and then put them in your Vault. Then they can be accessed by your executor or close family member when you pass, happy in the knowledge that your passing will be commemorated by the music you have chosen.

Neat, hey?

I’ve often thought how strange it is that people aren’t around to enjoy the best party of their lives. When my mother died, the reception was a gathering of everyone she held dear. My sister said to me how much mum would have enjoyed it.

I’ve been to other funerals where the reception turned into a full on party, in particular the sending off of a reggae singer.

So I read with some pleasure a blog by Richard Smith, brother of Arthur, advocating living funerals.  His argument is that the event would be far more pleasurable than one where the subject of the gathering is dead and so more people would come and enjoy themselves.

He had been to a living funeral and it was clearly a good time, not least because the dying friend’s favourite music was played.

Which is great news for someone who is getting a website called My Last Song off the ground. It stresses the importance of choosing the right music for your farewell, and a logical extension is to be there to enjoy the music and the party it’s being played at.

Also encouraging is Richard Smith’s assertion that living funerals ’seem not to be rare in America’.  So, I hope that you music lovers Stateside use My Last Song to store your playlists and the party plans for last big get together.