I don’t know where my parents are buried. I was at both their burials, in different graveyards. I don’t remember where. Nor do their graves have headstones.
Many find this weird, even off-putting. I don’t miss having a grave or headstone to commemorate.I don’t feel I need a place to go to think about, honour and celebrate my parents. The same with two brothers and a sister. They each and all have their own ‘warm’ spot in my heart and memory. Having said that, there is the urge to use the occasion for humour, as did the ‘voice’ of Loony Tunes Mel Blanc and comedian Rodney Dangerfield, whose tombstone reads: “There goes the neighbourhood”
My own dying and death journeys
I became interested (some say obsessed) with end of life conundrums way back in 2009. Back then, it wasn’t a personal situation that motivated this learning curve instead it was a logical progression of a health focus born of the arrival of daughters one and two. In 1986 – when daughter one came – I morphed from Entertainment Reporter to Entrepreneur, creating two hospital-based television networks dedicated to patient education. The first, The Parent Channel, the second, Healthtv. My approach was: ‘everyman’s perspective’.
In the fullness of time, children grew into adults and I stumbled onto a tweet chat where end of life options and their repercussions were being mulled by a spectrum of health care professionals: doctors, nurses, social workers, ethicists, chaplains, pharmacists. The virtual world crushed silos, and I was welcomed as a liaison between ‘their’ world and the rest of us mortals.
BestEndings.com, my book, Death Kills and my TEDtalk, Exit Laughing should give a hint of my penchant for humour.
I’m now invited as Keynote to conferences around the world. I also facilitate inter professional health students workshops focused on dying process.. For me, it was all about health decisions, repercussions. Questions to ask. Post decisional relief and regret.
Funeral plans were not within my scope of interest.
Fast forward: we sold our house and had new Wills made up.
With in a year, two dearly beloved people were heading to their ends. One of them, my 102 year old father in law, had his plot and officiant paid for. The other, my sister, is going to leave these decisions to her grown up son.
Husband and I had a talk. He, already paying yearly for the right to purchase plots. Me, it’s organ donation and cremation.
Then I decided to do something considered radical: rather than detail ‘what I’d want’, for daughters to honour, I asked each daughter what she’d like. Their initial reaction: “Whatever you want we’ll do.” I reminded them: I’ll be dead, with this story – allegedly true: When the late Dr Rob Buchman was asked by his children what music he’d like at his funeral, he answered, “Surprise me.”
Perhaps, for many, it is the funeral, the wake, shiva or other tradition that’s needed to comfort a grieving heart. But long after, what – if anything – can help with memories and feelings of loss.
My daughters are investigating making something from our ashes. Older favors a tree. Younger is contemplating something in the way of a piece of art. Both fill my heart with love and appreciation. Not a tombstone to be found.