Just a little more than two years ago, I wrote a piece on obituaries. There is so much sadness attached, and it’s a very sensitive subject. It reflects a great deal of person’s style. Some people write their own ahead of time, and can thus make a personal statement about what is and was important to them, while others allow family members or others close to them to perform the task.
I’ve received a couple of requests to reblog (is that a word?) the original from 2019. Of course, we’ve been in a climate where so many more obituaries are appearing daily and weekly, a tragic toll of the pandemic. If it can lighten the mood just a bit, it’s well worth the effort. There was never any intent to offend anyone, or to denigrate what’s been written about the departed. One intrepid reader even wrote to me, asking if I’d help her write one for a family member. It’s a service I can provide in an emergency and allowing some lead time.
One notice that came to my attention in today’s paper opens up a whole new field – the “theme” obituary. This happens, presumably when the dearly departed had a specific area of interest, possibly a passion. In this case, it was baking, because it was a “recipe for a happy life”. “1 spouse of 45 years; 95 tablespoons of happy memories; 6 teaspoons of spirited great-grandchildren, 5 cups of beach sand, “etc., etc. That sort of thing isn’t offensive and its’s entertaining, if just a wee bit over-the-top. Gardeners might write about their “highly successful son, a sturdy oak or a magnolia in investment banking; their 7 seven hosta grandchildren, each distinctive and praiseworthy; their nephew who never quite found himself, really the crabgrass of the family.” (Personally, I can think of any number of folks that can be described as crabapples.) A car enthusiast could describe his employment opportunities, a “true Maserati of a job at . . . .; followed by a period working at . . . . . . . when the battery failed, the tires all went flat, and finally a tree fell on the Yugo in a windstorm.”
If you’ve read my blog on “truthiness”, then you know that some bits and pieces of the notices have a somewhat glossy quality that seems to reflect a perspective that’s more glittery fantasy that might just depart significantly from reality, rather like the Trump administration. Here, I’ll quote myself off and on from previous writing, so if it sounds familiar, oh well. Let’s go for a little straight talk, like the disclaimers in drug commercials. “Surrounded by loving family” – ok maybe a few brave souls paused in the doorway, but really? Possibly one or two were standing guard, while a few others were watching CSI reruns downstairs, checking their watches, or looking for copies of the will in the desk. “Loved by all”. Quite possibly, but not after her dementia turned her into a shrew, with whom a ten-minute visit was an excruciating ordeal. Or the heirs who found out he’d invested heavily in off-track betting. With the except of the neighbors when she stood on the front porch in an old bathrobe calling her cat, “Firefly” at 6 in the morning. Maybe not so much by the nursing staff at Gentle Oaks who had to tie him into his chair so he wouldn’t move up and down the hallways with his hospital gown flopping open, trying to scrounge a cigarette. One’s succumbing to the afterlife tends to bring out wonderfully fond fantasies that may or may not have existed in real life. The ugly scenes retreat in our memorial archives to be replaced by smiles, fluffy clouds, and warm embraces. I’m going on record as being slightly skeptical of “beloved by everyone who knew him or her.” There are some Mother Theresa’s among us, but most aren’t.
Once again, I quote myself because, in a bout of laziness, it’s too much to rewrite and still reads durably. Life accomplishments and career experiences are an area where some go way overboard. “Hal operated a backhoe for 38 years. Some of his proudest accomplishments are waterline ditches on Summer and School Streets, as well as his impressive work on the overpass out on Highway 24.” Some people lead incredibly interesting lives. When James Bond or Jason Bourne dies, they’re entitled to include the really exciting bits and pieces of their life. They could fill books – oh wait, they do. For the rest of us, though, life is pretty mundane, so let’s keep those life accomplishments private, like putting in shiny new urinals at the bus station. Important in life, but not really obituary-worthy. Also, let’s not include hobbies and scattered interests, such as “enjoyed going to the beach”, “chasing cats around the backyard”, and “playing strip poker”. One of my favorites is “most of all, enjoyed time spent with family”. Doesn’t this include almost everyone you’ve ever known, with the possible exceptions of Henry David Thoreau and Ivan the Terrible?
Finally, and again I’m plagiarizing myself, the question arises about how much to put in. For anyone under the age of 45, we need details. Simply putting “died suddenly” or “passed unexpectedly” is not nearly enough for the casual obituary reader. If you’re going to put an announcement in the newspaper, privacy is off the table anyway, so the family may as well fill us in on all of the sordid details. Some time ago, my cousin related a story about a gentleman that “died suddenly”. As the story unfolded, it seemed that he was standing on a wrought iron patio chair changing a light bulb when he fell into the swimming pool and was tragically electrocuted. All of the details were published in the local newspaper. Now, that’s the kind of reporting that really spices up the narrative and keeps us coming back for more. Give us something of substance – was it accidental, an unknown congenital condition? Teased his pitbull “Crusher” one too many times? Every so often, but not nearly enough, we get some of storyline in news items. Exotic pets for example, an enraged orangutan burst free of its cage and attacked its owner. A pet python, “Gentle Ben”, turned out not to be so gentle. Alligators don’t really make good house pets. To all obituary writers I say, we shouldn’t have to rely on a YouTube video to find out what happened to the “Bear Man of Beulah”.
If you’re old enough to remember the Mary Tyler Moore Show, there is a very funny episode in which Mary and Murray, the head writer, are working overtime “updating” notable obituaries. They come across “the oldest person in Minneapolis. It’s late into the night and they’re getting punchy, writing an outrageously inappropriate fiction. You, of course, can see where this is going. He dies during the night, and the morning news team pulls up and broadcasts the outrageous, and unspeakably funny obit that Mary and Murray had written the night before. Even Ted Baxter, the brainless anchor reading the obituary is highly offended.
As I’ve said before, I stand willing to assist anyone in writing interesting – nay headline-grabbing obituaries, and present a list of opening material that could, under the right circumstances develop into full blown themes, recipes, or short stories. For example,
“Muriel was beloved by some – mostly those named in the will, while most of her acquaintances found her rather irritating.”
“John is greatly missed by his business partners, who have been embezzling for a number of years. Multiple lawsuits are pending by his immediate family and his major investors. Meanwhile, ‘New Day Investments’ will be closed for an undetermined period of time.”
“The Rottweiler tethered to the front porch was an indicator of Phil’s warmth and friendliness.”
“The entire staff at Bubbling Brook Assisted Living assembled in the parking lot to pay Phyllis a fond farewell, tossing confetti and passing around glasses of champagne.”
“George loved his guns, right up to the final tragic moment when he thought the safety clip was on.”
“In later years, Julia tended to repeat her beloved stories. Is there anyone on the East Coast who hasn’t heard the ‘knitting needles in the sofa cushion’ story? [NOTE: If someone tells it one more time, I swear to God I’ll . . . . . . ”]
“Known as the ‘Cat Lady of Oak Street’, Clara will be remembered by all of her neighbors for several blocks, the Animal Control Officer, the Department of Sanitation, and by everyone at the Animal Rescue League.”
“Humphrey left his entire estate to the ‘Save the Chipmunk Fund’ as a final statement to his grandchildren, who wouldn’t know a ‘thank-you’ note if it danced across the screens of their tablets.”
Yes, there’s certainly a sweet or savory recipe in each and every one.
I'm Thinking...No! 