Hey Tyler!
Thanks for all the music and plays! The City & the City sounds good. Reminds me a little of Italo Calvino's poem/prose hybrid that has taken me a year to read, picking it up here and there and falling into an incredibly different world on each page.
Thanks, too, for the condolences. It was my grandpa, and we'd been expecting it. He went naturally and I think even gratefully--my grandma died several years ago and he was a Christian so his belief in heaven gave him peace to go. It's the first funeral I've been to, though, since my husband's, so I was anxious this week, triggered by memories. I also haven't been in a church since then, and I dreaded all the clichés that are said at this time, my uncles telling me to keep the faith. And though my grandpa liked organ music (and a hand bell choir), I hated walking into—what felt to me—a somber, stuffy space with songs about how it is well with my soul. Church funerals bother me. I wish I had more knowledge of how people of non-faith or different faiths approach death. I wanted blues, not hymns. I want people to scream and shout at the loss, to respond with violence in the way that death is a violence, a disruption. Not to cry quietly into tissues saying at least the dead is happy. Is it ever about the dead? Or the living? I want a great big fire and to dig pits in the earth where we all curl up, exhausted for the night, dirty and sweaty and worn out and uncomfortable. Even if it's natural to die of old age vs. the unnaturalness of a young death, I want people to be vibrantly alive at a funeral, to be in movement. And if there are god(s), to make our grief loud enough to tell them how much the one taken was valued and so they should pay attention to and welcome the spirit coming their way.
This coming from someone who is incredibly quiet in every other aspect of my life.
Sorry if this is too heavy. I'm not sure what I think yet, I'm just dissatisfied. 
My lunch break is almost done. Thanks for the Hop Along song—they’ll be my afternoon playlist. 
Abigail