Death and Dying

I'm reminded this morning that my parents were right about so many things. One thing I think my dad got perfectly correct is about cemeteries. My folks taught us all that when you die, the spark of life that is your soul goes to Heaven (we hope!) and what's left behind is useless. They don't believe in spending a ton of money on a funeral. They don't visit cemeteries and pray over the graves of lost loved ones. The celebrate the life that person led, and share stories of the good times.

I think this is the Irish in them talking. Wakes are all about telling stories about the person who passed. At a wake, there's generally more laughing, than crying.

I have a friend whose lost a mother and a nephew over the past two months. First things first, her family did NOT put the fun in dysfunctional. They are a soap opera in the making. Just one step shy of the Jerry Springer Show. I've heard so many anecdotes over the past ten years, that I wouldn't even know where to start. But one story that sticks in my mind occurs to me today because it's playing out again with the latest death of her nephew.

One side of the divorced couple wants a big funeral, expensive coffin and to share the expenses over everyone. The other side wants to cremate their loved one, and skip all the fuss. Both sides of the family are at each other's throats.

To me, that is the saddest part of this tragedy. Bad enough to lose a 30 year old relative. Worse to have the family all fighting when they should be supporting each other through the grieving process.

When did funerals get so expensive? When did coffins start costing as much as cars? How did we ever get convinced that we had to buy a carved monument--or it means we didn't love the person being buried?

I've told my kids I want to be cremated. And their directions are to get together, dig a hole, dump in my ashes and plant a tree on me. Hire a bagpiper to play "Amazing Grace". That's all the memorial I want when I die. Don't buy a plot. If you didn't buy me real estate while I was living, don't think about it when I'm dead. Don't come by and visit 'me' at a cemetery. I'm not going to be there. I might be haunting you, but I won't hang around a graveyard, that's just creepy.

My father's father was a caretaker of a cemetery for a few years. I'm sure my dad had to help mow and weed the area during his childhood. After spending a lot of time in a cemetery, he doesn't think there's anything worth going back to see. And I happen to agree with him.

When I drive by a National Cemetery with its regulation crosses and ranks upon ranks of graves, it always makes me cry. Such a loss of life. Fallen heroes.

When I go by a regular cemetery and see all the angel statues and elaborate tombstones, I don't necessarily think good thoughts. Sometimes I wonder if the buried person would celebrate the opulence or be dismayed at the expense? And the double tombstones with one person buried and the other side blank, just waiting, really make my skin crawl.

When I go, I want everyone to get along. I don't want my death to start a family feud. Throw a party. Tell embarrassing stories about me. Celebrate the impact I had on your life--if I had any at all. But don't feel like you need to spend a lot of money, or memorialize my passing. All the monument I need is the family I leave behind. Think good thoughts of me, and that will be sufficient.

--Sandee Wagner