He filled a room. Stories were told; tales of him as a brother, a father, a cousin, or a friend. Stories and jokes and laughs. But the sing-along, that's what did it.
That's how I want to go out, with my people gathered in my favorite place, living it up as if I were there and telling the stories of when I actually was. And there definitely has to be a sing-along.
We sang two songs for Charlie, filled a room with voices terrible and sweet. One came from Neil Young and the other, Rod Stewart's Forever Young.
I remember being a young child with no appreciation for Mr. Stewart and I recall feeling silly once I realized what song we were being led in at Charlie's celebration...but only for a moment. Now, I'll never hear the song the same way. It will no longer be a sugary ballad grown from the 80's, playing on radio stations my mother made me listen to as a child, a practice I would have then equated as kin to torture. Nope. No more.
Rod Stewart's Forever Young is now Charlie's song. The tune is now a moment, crowded into the Woodfire with many a friend and many a stranger, singing along, tears in eyes, and smiles on faces.
Scenes like that will come and change a piece of music for you. Or a song just strikes you at the right moment; good news comes your way and you turn on the car radio and forever you find yourself inspired and elated to hear some silly, raunchy pop song. Or maybe a song just strikes you, just makes you feel good.
Whatever the cause, however you found it, sing it loud and proud and with no shame. And make sure you have someone to sing it with.