One of the tasks I am responsible for at work is checking the obituaries. We have an Excel spread sheet that is used to track the vital information: name, city, date of birth, date of death. We do this so that we remain aware of who has passed in our county. That way, if it happens to be a client, volunteer, or donor, we can ensure a sympathy card goes out in the mail and/or a name is taken off our mailing list, lest a widow or widower receives a solicitation from our organization in the mail with their deceased spouse’s name on it.

Some obits are short and to the point, not revealing much about the deceased beyond who preceded them in death and who from their earthly orbit is left to mourn their loss. These trigger my imagination. I ponder what the reasons could have been for these sparsely worded obits. Perhaps the deceased was not well-liked by their family? Or maybe, perhaps even worse, not well-known? Or perhaps they were so beloved that their loved ones just couldn’t put their heads around how to even begin to express their love for them in writing, momentarily emotionally paralyzed by their grief.

I suppose a percentage of the obits I read are written by paid professionals, though I can’t know for sure. It makes me wonder what information is requested of the families by the writer to allow them to create a tribute to the dearly departed that accurately captures who they were in life. What a sacred thing to be entrusted with.

Often, it seems, in particular with elderly females that have passed, the newly deceased are described in their obits as being “selfless”. I understand for those penning these obits this is high praise, but I can’t help but wonder if these “selfless” women actually got to enjoy their one and only precious lives at all. Or were they just too busy making sure everyone else was taken care of to do any taking care of themselves? No doubt this is a result of both the patriarchy and the generation these folks came up in.

One trend that I’ve noticed in these obituaries, which occurred on Mr. NOA’s side of the family (his maternal grandmother), is that folks are not always having funerals, or even “celebrations of life”. Often, it’s stated in the obits that this is per the deceased wishes.

I don’t get this at all. Funerals and “celebrations of life” are for the living. They are for the people who are devastated that you have passed on from this earthly sphere. Honestly, I think it’s selfish. However, I do understand a person not wanting to have an open casket when their family is having a funeral. I think that’s where Mr. NOA’s grandma was coming from; she didn’t want people looking at her lifeless body in a casket. I don’t want that either. I say cremate me, have a big ‘ol party and listen to my favorite songs.

Some obituaries are so beautifully written and with enough detail to make me wish I had known the person. Like the woman who had a dog named “George Michael Bluth“. I think she was an educator and loved to garden. Or the man who woke his children up by singing “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” at the top of his lungs every day.

There are times when the obits I read are of people who were not elderly. The ones whose lives were cut very short by a sudden medical emergency, accident, or cancer diagnoses. It brings it home for me that life is so fleeting and any control we think we have in how it’s going to end is delusional. It makes me feel like I want to take my life more seriously. Not take myself more seriously, mind you. Just life. Recognizing that each day I get is one to enjoy and appreciate.

I struggled a bit to find the right song to end this blog post with. As an elder Gen Xer, my brain kept returning to the first sad song I remember hearing as a kid, Seasons in the Sun by Terry Jacks. My sister had it on an old ’45 that I could play on my little plastic turntable back in about 1975. When I checked YouTube, I was surprised to learn that Nirvana recorded their own version of this song. Seems fitting to me.

So if you could use a good cry…enjoy?