This blog is a follow-up to my highly successful ones on obituaries, which featured the best and worst things to include in them. If I live long enough, I’ll republish them or include them in my humorous memoirs. On occasion, I’d tell my students to watch what they said out loud, because it was all fair game for my memoirs. Several gave me a couple of chapters worth. But I digress.
If you’ve ever spent time in graveyards, and to be honest, I haven’t, you’ll notice that in the past, there would be inscriptions carved into the older ones. “Gone too soon.” “A life of service.” “Beloved by all.” Something nice about the dearly departed. When my parents bought an old house in the country many years ago, they discovered a gravestone in the basement. Odd, you say? The story goes that the wife, Prudence Mason, died before the husband, Rufus. When he died years later, a large family monument was placed in the town cemetery, and so as not to waste anything (typical New England frugality), Prudence’s headstone came home to be used as a top for the pickle barrel. True story. It had an inscription on it, but can’t remember what it was. Over time, inscriptions were shortened. Only “Father” or “Mother”. Sadly, even these went the way of the white-wall tire – probably a victim of the added costs of stone carving. Now, all one sees are the name and life dates. The well-to-do will sometimes have sculptural elements – angels, hummingbirds, or other decorative accents. But those don’t really tell us much about the person lying beneath the memorial. Tragic really, because we no longer gain insights into the personalities of those that came before us. Of course, we’ve seen cartoons about inscriptions – bold writing like, “I told you I was sick.” And on t-shirts. Saw one in a catalog that was amusing. It said, “I told my wife I wanted to be cremated. She booked an appointment for next Tuesday.” I was looking for funny headstone inscriptions, and came across a couple that I really liked. For example, talk show host and musician Merv Griffin had put on his gravestone, “I will NOT be back after this message.” What a great line. Several had variations on “You’re standing on my . . .” Various body parts. You can use your imagination. One that was a sign of our times, and quite clever, was the headstone of a gay soldier. His stone read something to the effect of “I got a medal for killing two men, but a discharge for loving one.”
Her Ladyship had an aunt that visited her relatives fairly regularly, particularly her eldest sister, Stella. We’d get the annual report, “Stella isn’t well.” Never a positive, like “Stella didn’t look half bad this time.” Or “Stella is better.” Always that Stella was poorly. Now there’s a grave marker that truly writes itself. “It’s true. She wasn’t well.” In a similar vein, Herself and I will be in her family’s plot. We used to put flowers near the headstone, and a friend had built a very attractive raised bed with some perennials. The cemetery made us take everything out – apparently it was too much trouble for the guy to mow around the small garden. There isn’t really space for an inscription, but if there were, I’d put in a small block of granite with the message, “Now, you’ll just have to use your imagination.” That family plot originated with Her Ladyship’s grandparents. Her grandmother was not a particularly effusive person. Darkness rather permeated her whole demeanor. We wondered from time to time how her mother came to be. I thought it would be funny to have a marble yardstick separating her grandparents’ spots, with the inscription, “She kept her distance.” There are many for whom that sentiment would be quite fitting.
Public figures have distinct characteristics that attach themselves. These are links to our memories of them. Jimmy Carter, for example, should have a happy face emoji, and the words, “I gave it my best shot.” For former President Donald Trump, on the other hand, we might expect to see a large, ok, monstrous, stone memorial, erected on the Mall in DC so the Trump Organization can claim the Federal District on their taxes – perhaps a mirror of the Washington Monument or something along the lines of the Great Pyramids, etched with the legend, “My lawyers say I’m not dead.” Or possibly, “I still demand a recount – I only need 12,000 votes in Georgia.” Or better still, an obelisk at Mar A Lago, waves washing around it, with the legend, “What Climate Change?” Melania would, of course, be resting elsewhere because, well, at this point, “She’s Cutting Ties”. George W. Bush’s gravestone might simply say, “Mission Accomplished”. Senator Mitch McConnell’s should read, “Many thought I died years ago. It’s been so hard to tell.”
Many of us have known hoarders, folks that collect and collect until their places of residence are uninhabitable. Every so often, there’s a news item about someone – typically an older person, found dead in a chair surrounded by stacks of old newspapers, magazines, and mostly junk. We had some relatives like that. They slept in chairs downstairs because even the stairs were inaccessible. Some enterprising relative should put on the graves, “What do you mean, I can’t take it with me?” Or, “You’re just throwing this out?”
We all think of friends and family, and envision what would suit them – their unique habits, perhaps something they’d say from time to time, something that just seems to fit them. One dear friend Deborah is a traveler, visiting all manner of interesting locations. She’s also a great collector of, well, lots of decorative “stuff”. Known widely as “Auntie Deb”, much like “Auntie Mame”, whom she resembles as larger-than-life, her lasting memorial should read, “Auntie Deb is on the road again.” And it should be surrounded by bits and bobbles from her collection. Another dear friend, Lady Peacock, about whom I’ve written before, has been noted to announce regularly that things weren’t going particularly well for her, most any given day. Her headstone should proclaim, “I’M NOT HAVING A GOOD DAY!” All caps for emphasis. Or another option for her would be, “I’m running late.” Because she invariably is. Around her stone should be planted lavender, her favorite. In the event that the lavender plants don’t survive, they should be dug up and returned to the nursery for a full refund. Mourners should arrive at the gravesite with a Starbucks coffee in tribute. Skim milk, because she’ll be eternally dieting, even in the great beyond. And speaking of Starbucks, the Princess, our daughter Betsy, should have a small Starbucks logo carved into her memorial. It would be nice if her executor could arrange a delivery of a latte each day at around 3 PM, in keeping with her daily routine. Any time we’d be going out, particularly for an event like lunch or dinner in a restaurant or there is otherwise a cost involved, she’d pose the question, “I don’t need my wallet, do I?” In truth, not so much a question as a statement. That, I think, would be a fitting sentiment to be preserved for eternity. My brother, a constant coffee drinker should leave instructions to have on his stone, “Someone turn off the coffee pot.” He also wore plaid flannel shirts year-round, so a small plaid swath could be carved somewhere in and around his name.
Many of our inscriptions should be defined by our personalities, our careers, or our hobbies and interests. Her Ladyship, a stickler for time, would have a small stone or plaque that reads, “I’m on schedule.” Several close family members might suggest “His Grumpiness” for mine. Personally, I think it’s rather harsh. I go back and forth with two possibilities. As a teacher, “Class Dismissed” seems appropriate and fitting. Or, from my interest in plants and gardening, “I’m Composting”. It just works.
I'm Thinking...No! 