The Haters: Part 1

10/1/09

It's no secret that a lot of people hate funerals. They don't ever want to go to them and don't want one held when they die either. I understand that everyone hates a funeral because it means that someone has died, and many people tell me that they don't want one because they seem gloomy and sad, when they want to be happy and laugh. I knew there was more to it than that, though, so I started searching the Internet for posts that included the words 'I Hate Funerals'. Most of what I found were comments posted on personal blogs and online discussion forums.

Included below are some comments dealing with the emotional nature of funerals that are representative of many of the posts I came across. Some of the comments surprised me, and some I'd heard many times before, but I found all of them to be a bit troubling. People seem to think that if they avoid dealing with the difficult parts of life, those aspects of life will not effect them. Many people think that if they don't cry, they won't be sad; that if they only deal with and participate in the good times, their life and legacy will be all smiles and laughter.

Unfortunately for these folks, the opposite is true. If we don't allow ourselves to face the sadness and loss, to cry and comfort one another in grief, we don't move forward to a place where we can enjoy the happy memories without the ache of unresolved grief getting in the way. We are not sad because we have cried at a funeral, we cry at a funeral because we are sad. When we avoid the funeral to avoid the sadness, we are only preventing the healthy release of our emotions, and avoiding that emotional work keeps the sadness with us.

If we don't support others in their time of grief and allow our friends and family to do the same for us, we don't get the full measure and benefit of our relationships, and our happy times lack the depth that a fuller relationship provides.

If we ask the loved ones we will leave behind "Don't cry for me!", we are giving advice that will hinder their happiness in the long run, not help it along.

I was surprised by how many people hated funerals because they didn't think they could handle the situation emotionally. This was actually the most common type of comment.

I hate funerals, because I am always the one that cries the most. Why do I have to cry so much, more than the relatives, the friends, the people who knew the passed person a lot more than me? Why can’t I sit there and listen to the readings and the music without needing to wipe away tears constantly, blowing my nose loudly, and biting my quivering lower lip? I hate funerals, because I can’t keep it together, and that makes me feel embarrassed. I don’t want to show more emotion than the closest relatives, but I can’t help it. I feel so sorry for everyone involved, and I feel sorry for myself too. I can’t but imagine how terrible I’d feel if I was the one

who had lost someone. And that makes me cry more than anything else.

http://www.karinreport.com/

Why does this person cry so much at funerals? Well, everyone deals with their emotions differently, but a funeral is an acceptable, safe, and supportive place to cry. My guess is that if this person really does cry excessively at any funeral, there is some unresolved grief in there that needs to come out, and that dealing with this grief more, rather than less is the best course of action. This next entry is very similar. I can almost picture a giant well of emotion that is barely contained by the avoidance strategies of these people. This is no way to go through life.

I will go to a funeral only if I have to drive my elderly mother. I hate funerals -mostly because I cry —even for those I don’t know.

I get very emotional at funerals. I usually get out of them by volunteering to stay at the house (thieves check out obits to target the homes of those who will be attending funerals) or I prepare food for the wake at someone’s home or at the church hall. I let everyone know, a long time ago, how much I hate funerals, so they don’t expect me to attend. The last funeral I attended (other than as a driver for my mother) was my only sibling’s and I will have to go when my mother dies –but that’s it for me. My husband and I don’t want funerals or memorial celebrations, so I’m off the hook if he goes first. If I go first, he has been instructed to have me cremated, then sprinkle my ashes anywhere he wants.

http://atheism.about.com/b/2008/10/16/daily-poll-do-you-attend-church-on-religious-holidays.htm

Some people seem to feel 'put upon' about bringing down the light hearted and upbeat nature of their day by exposing themselves to the sadness of others, or feeling it themselves. In turn they feel guilty about this, and it just adds to their negative ideas about funerals.

A good family friend of ours passed away in his sleep last night. He was one of the most kind and giving people I've ever met, in my whole life. The funeral is tomorrow. I want to go, but there's also a part of me that doesn't want to go. Not at all. I hate funerals (understandably, I'm sure). This is my spring break. I'm tired of people dying. Every break I've been on I've gone to a funeral. I can't deal with the emotion anymore. I can't deal with the eulogies and the weeping and the...everything. It's selfish, and I hate myself for it, but even though I want to go, I don't. I hate myself for it. I'm a terrible person. I'm selfish, I'm uncaring. I hate that he's dead. I hate it. But why do I hate that he's dead? For totally selfish reasons. Because I'll never see him again. Because I'll miss him. I don't care about his family. I've never even met them. All I care about is me and the fact that I won't ever talk to Barry again. I hate myself for it. I'm a terrible person. I'm selfish, I'm uncaring. Rest in peace, Barry.http://www.postsecretcommunity.com/chat/viewtopic.pp=4823982&highlight=&sid=383362e38792fe11cefa739f336fab3c

This last piece is a particularly troubling entry from a young man who seems to believe that only laughter and smiles are acceptable in life; that if people cry at his passing, they are betraying his memory. I wonder how many people actually expect to be able to live this way, and how much of life's difficult work just remains undone in these lives.

So I was in the car doing absolutely nothing with a crew when rich said listen and turned up the stereo. The words that came on hit me it said swear to god that you won't cry at my funeral. I’ve said my entire life that I don’t want anyone to cry at my funeral, but I never really told anyone. I think that it would be an insult to me. I live my life to see others happy. I get joy in seeing people laugh, so even if you are sad that I've passed on to whatever, if anything, awaits me, do your best to keep your smile up, don’t let my fading away stop you from laughing. I hate hospitals, I refuse to go to them unless I absolutely have to. It's not because there are so many people who are dying or sick that hospitals irk me it's because not a single person there has a smile on their faces. It's everything I'm not...sadness, pain, hurting, and so much more. I've never been to a funeral and will never go because I'll be the one in the crowd laughing at all the good times I've enjoyed with them. I will not cry over a death as long as I still have those memories. And I want that, not tears and sobs but tears and laughs, tears of people laughing so hard they can't help it.

Remember me as the guy who striped in the shop right parking lot, the tunnel, and the back of the GMC Jimmy that so many memories have been burned into. Remember me as the guy that would walk around very public places acting literally like a retard. Remember me as Josh and make me a legend in your mind, tell stories of me at parties, make me the butt of your jokes, Just remember when the laughter stops so do I so don't let it stop. Especially at a funeral where I don't even want to be. P.S. I don't like funerals so don't be surprised to find an empty casket. I'll run away from my own even if I'm the main guest. Promise not to cry at my funeral. Swear that you won't cry at my funeral. http://www.unsolvedmysteries.com/usm504618.html

It is not just grieving and health issues that suffer. Relationships and a great deal of emotional growth demand facing and dealing with difficult emotional issues. I'd like to think that this comment above is just adolescence talking, but unfortunately, many adults are saying the same thing.

(the photos above have been retouched to reflect the sentiments expressed in this story- to my knowledge, no funeral haters have yet taken to the streets in protest -Ed.)

Ghost Buildings

Photo credit Helsing

There is a kind of afterlife that exists in our physical world.  Our actions and experiences continue to resonate long after the situations they were born in are gone.  Whether our loved one is with us, in another place, or dead, these experiences make up a great deal of our relationship.  New experiences merely add on to the sum.  Those we love always leave their mark on us.

Walker Road Demolition Photo credit Rob Ayre

The phenomenon of ghost dwellings,  accidental results of demolition, speaks to this kind of afterlife in a striking way.  Created when one structure is removed from a shared wall of another, the ghost dwelling reveals physical evidence of the life that was shared there.

Photo credit Dermographix

As a coral reef grows into a habitat for new life, it's structure made up of the bones of it's departed citizens, our world too, is the land of ghosts.

The castle-in-the-air theory Photo Credit Bernat_83

In grieving, we wonder if our loved one will still be with us somehow.  Will he be looking down on me, watching, maybe sending down subtle signs of love or advice?  Will our relationship continue?  Will it grow?  Will it simply become a monologue and wither away?

Photo Credit Evan Helfrich

The grieving may want their loved one back with them to share in their present and future, but it is nonetheless a certainty that our dead continue to live on in us.  The experiences we've shared with them shape even our understanding of the world, not to mention the shapes and patterns of our daily thoughts and ruminations.

Multicolor Photo Credit Carmen Alonso

Let us imagine then, as we look at these buildings; do we see loss?  Do we see evidence of absence?  If so, we must also acknowledge the shared bonds and experiences that will not disappear as long as one of the partners stands.

How do we move on after loss?  Perhaps the ghost buildings can help us to see an answer to this as well.  We will never be able to re-form what had been there.  We cannot place a new flight of stairs where we see the evidence of an old flight.  

Railway Bridge Wall Photo Credit Jane Parker

But we need not fear losing the bonds and life that has been shared.  Though time may pass, and we may start a new relationship with the world; the bonds that have shaped us and knit us to our loved one will last as long as we will.

Shine On Brightly: A Conversation with Adrienne Crowther

"ROUND SILVER/GLASS HEIRLOOM PENDANT"
by artist ANGELA BUBASH
The round glass protects your memento of choice -
hair, cremated remains, fabric, or anything less than 1/8" in thickness.

Shine On Brightly is a source for unique, personalized memorial art. A wide variety of memorial art is available, including cremation urns in various materials and styles, memorial jewelry, memorial paintings, handmade books, memorial glass objects, memorial poetry, and textile art.

The company was founded in April 2008 by Adrienne Crowther, former Executive Director of the Asheville, North Carolina Area Arts Council. She comes to this work from a lifelong passion for art, and with the belief that every life deserves to be honored and celebrated. Ms. Crowther recently lost her husband of 29 years unexpectedly.

“When I promote a handmade book from our collection, I can tell you that I used one of them as a guest register/message journal at our memorial service, and that it will be cherished forever by my family… the bracelet that I wear in honor of my husband was designed and created by a Shine On Brightly artist. I believe in these products, and they have helped me through a difficult time.”

Both commissioned and non-commissioned pieces are available. Orders can be placed online at www.shineonbrightly.com , or by phone (toll free 866-884-4469). Ms. Crowther has graciously agreed to share a conversation with The Daily Undertaker.

"SPIRAL OF LIFE PENDANT"
by artist JAMES YAUN
Ashes are spun into the piece,
producing a subtle, delicate effect.

Pat McNally: There are some beautiful pieces on display on your website. One piece in particular that I really liked is a pendant that can hold hair as a memorial. I have been asked for locks of hair on several occasions by families. I think that this is a beautiful way to keep and display something like this. Could you tell us a bit about this piece?

Adrienne Crowther: I really love these pieces also. In fact, before my husband passed away, my elder daughter cut his hair because he had asked her for a haircut before he slipped into a coma and she never had a chance to do it. So she cut his hair while he was in the coma, and for Christmas, I had one of these pendants made with his hair for her, and a ring with his hair for my other daughter.

The artist is Angela Bubash, and she teaches and exhibits at some of the finest craft schools, such as Penland School of Craft and Arrowmont. In her artist statement, she says that she “honors the tradition of her craft while referencing historical and contemporary art and design.” She had also expressed an affinity for creating work for honoring a life.

Adrienne Crowther

What a wonderful gift your daughter gave to her father. I’m sure that those pendants are especially precious to you all because of that memory. There is such a value to us in caring for our loved ones in their last days. I think that as a culture we have lost some of our humanity in moving away from caring for our own during sickness and at death. Certainly, it is often something too overwhelming for many to do on their own, but if we can be involved in some way it makes an enormous difference in our experience. I think too, that even when our loved ones are in a coma, as your husband was, or have already died, the kindnesses and care that we give to them are somehow known and appreciated. Even if they are not, it makes a world of difference to us.

I completely agree. My husband’s sister passed away in April (yes, it’s been an unbelievable year!). She had been a childhood friend since age 10. When her condition became dire, her children asked me to fly up to be with them. It was such an honor to be there. During her last days, I massaged her arms and legs with some herbal cream that she liked. It gave me an opportunity to be with her in a very special way. Even though she wasn’t really able to speak much, I talked to her a lot during that time, and I knew that she was comforted by our presence. Then, after she passed, her children, boyfriend, and I sat with her in her bedroom and shared stories, tears, and tons of love. It was quite beautiful. We were able to do that with my husband also. Both were hospice-assisted deaths. I’m a huge fan of hospice. I think they teach us how to experience the beauty in dying, which really is the ultimate event in life besides birth.

"IVY HILL"
by artist MICHAEL BUTLER
Based on photographs of special places, Butler’s paintings are
personalized by blending cremated ash into the pigments as he paints.

Currently, you offer quite a variety of different kinds of memorial art; in addition to urns, you offer jewelry, textiles, memorial painting, and memorial glass work. In your open call for artists what kind of works are you looking for?

I’m always looking for well-crafted pieces that are aesthetically tasteful. I also need to know that the artist is comfortable with producing these pieces more than once. Many artists don’t like to repeat a design. I fully understand that option, however, it doesn’t work for this purpose. I ask the artist for a statement about doing this type of work. Honestly, that statement carries a lot of weight if the quality is already good. I look for artists who are fulfilled and/or inspired by making art for the purpose of honoring a loved one. Many of the Shine On Brightly artists have experienced loss of some kind, or have been commissioned by friends or family to create a piece for someone who has passed. Usually, that has a profound effect on the artist, and they understand the importance of making art for this purpose.

How do you go about selecting products and types of products to represent?

I try to maintain a good amount of variety in the collection. I aim to have an inventory of pieces to match a wide array of aesthetics. You’ll notice that the collection includes traditional looking pottery as well as whimsical pieces. Shine On Brightly’s tagline is the Art of Reverence, so as long as it’s a well-made piece, I look for designs/pieces that are not like the average urn that one might find elsewhere. I like pieces that make me feel something.

"LOVE IS RED"
Colored Glass Urn by artist ROBERT LEVIN

Memorial quilts are an idea I have only ever seen offered on your site. It seems like a wonderfully comforting way to memorialize someone. Has there been a lot of interest in this offering?

There’s been interest in the quilts but I’d really like to be able to market these as a great way to process grief. It takes a commitment from the person who commissions one of these pieces, to provide just the right information and/or materials for a memorial textile quilt. The client works very closely with the artist to establish the spirit of the person being honored. That can include color, texture, shapes, and objects. For example, if a person had a very bold personality, then the artist would probably work with intense colors (based on the preferences of the person being honored) and definite shapes. A quiet person might be represented with muted tones and softer shapes.

Also, the artist will incorporate objects that were meaningful or symbolic to that person. She can incorporate a wedding ring or favorite brooch, a piece of fabric from a favorite article of clothing, or photos that are copied onto fabric. These elements really add that unique, personal quality to the piece.

Memorial Quilt by textile artist Norma Bradley

When I meet with families who have chosen cremation, I explain to them that there is an almost endless variety of urns available. What are your thoughts on ways that families can sort through all of these options to find what is right for them?

I find that many of my clients tell me that they chose a certain piece because it really reminded them of the person who has passed. For example, the Garden of Delight urns often remind people of their loved ones who were gardeners. Sometimes certain colors remind them of their loved one. Most of my clients tell me that they searched all over the internet and saw a lot of the same products that were impersonal and mass-produced. My goal is to spread the word so well that all funeral directors know of Shine On Brightly as a resource for people who want something unique and beautiful, yet affordable.

As far as advice to families, I guess I would say that being specific in an online search is helpful. Instead of googling “cremation urns,” they might want to try “artist-made cremation urns” or “unique cremation urns.” I also would advise families to be as clear as possible to their funeral director about what they would like to have available to them. Sometimes people in this situation aren’t really sure, or aren’t in a frame of mind to articulate that. In that case, I think it’s up to good funeral directors to be educated about what’s available so that they can serve their families well.

What can transform the selection of an urn from just a retail event, into a meaningful and positive experience?

When I work with a potential client, I try to get information about the person who has passed. Then I can make suggestions about options that may be unknown to him/her. One of the most powerful processes is when I match a customer with an artist. I receive calls from clients who like the style of a particular artist, but would like to commission something especially for that loved one. I then put the artist in touch with the customer and they work on the design together. That involves several phone conversations, during which the artist asks questions about the person who has passed to get a feel for the spirit of that person. The artist then submits sketches to the client, and they exchange ideas and feedback until the ideal piece is designed. I’ve witnessed this process several times, and every time, the outcome has involved a pleasantly unexpected, cathartic, grief-process for the client. The artist and client often end up bonding and becoming friends after this process.

Ms. Crowther's Husband and daughters prior to her husband's death

Participation can be one of the most memorable and constructive parts of end of life rituals. Many who choose cremation do not have the opportunity to participate in things like carrying the casket or sprinkling earth on the grave. Would you encourage participatory acts such as involving the family in placing the cremated remains into the urn? Are there other ways that rituals and participation can become more a part of the cremation experience?

I feel very strongly that everyone knows their comfort level with such things. For example, some people choose to witness the actual cremation. If that’s ok , then by all means, I encourage that. I do feel that the commission process that I referenced in the last question is a wonderful opportunity to participate in part of the experience.

My husband was a sailor and career tugboat captain. My daughter designed and built a 4’ sailboat with wood from his tugboat. She even hand-sewed a papyrus sail, which made it functional. She built a small box that she filled with some of his ashes . The box sat on the stern of the boat. We gathered his family together on a dock on a river that he loved throughout his life. My brother-in-law paddled the boat upstream, lit it on fire, and set it down-river. The boat passed us along the way, ablaze in glory, like a Viking funeral. The most amazing part of this was that the boat sailed down the very center of the stream, as if he was at the helm. It was fantastic, and touched everyone there. I know that it was a very important part of my daughter’s healing process to do that.

We also brought some of his ashes to France, where we went skiing last winter. My husband loved to ski, and he loved Europe. I had wanted to scatter his ashes in a perfect spot. I knew the spot as soon as I saw it. My daughters were there, as well as his sister and her children, and a close family friend. Again, this was a powerful event for all of us.

What a powerful and inspiring story. I wish that every one was empowered to the point that they were able to do something like that. Certainly creating something like the sailboat, and creating the ritual of setting it aflame must have helped you all to acknowledge and move forward in your grief. For those who are not on the creating end of things, what is the value that art can add to the experience of grief and remembering?

Art is handmade by people, as opposed to mass-produced by machines. For that reason alone, there is a certain element of energy, life, and love that goes into the making of it. Also, art is a process, so there’s an organic quality to it. As I mentioned earlier, when a client works with an artist on a piece, it becomes a hugely cathartic experience for both of them. It requires reflection about the essence of the person – what were the personality traits of that person? What made that person unique? How would this person be represented? When we allow ourselves to have this process, we’re really spending time and energy with the memory of this person, and it gives the opportunity to be with that spirit and to heal from the loss.

MEMORIAL BOOK ART
Hand-made books constructed from hand-marbled papers and silk fabrics. Used to commemorate life’s important events, to document guests and messages at a memorial gathering, or to gather stories, photos, and memorabilia.

Your family experienced a profound loss. How has this changed the way you look at the role and value of memorial art?

I really understand the emotional impact that loss has on everyone in a family. I never thought I would experience such a profound loss at the age of 53. I want to preserve and honor my husband’s memory forever. We have an altar in our living room that is filled with tributes to him. There are lots of photos. There’s a handmade book that one of the Shine On Brightly artists made for us. It has his name and dates on the cover, along with a quote that he always loved from the book “The Wind in the Willows.” As I mentioned, we’ve had jewelry made with his hair, and my daughter is carving a wooden urn that was designed by the three of us (my other daughter and I).

When I talk with my customers, and I feel that it’s appropriate to tell my story, I immediately gain their trust. I’m not just selling products, but I feel passionate about the importance of honoring someone with something meaningful, unique, handmade, and beautiful. This really has become a vocation for me.

I love the idea of using a quote from ‘Wind in the Willows’. I am reminded of how important the contributions of artists are in our lives. Weaving these artistic threads through into our death and memorialization can be a big part of meaningful ‘personalization’. Do you have any advice for people going through an experience of loss?

Even though I was completely heartbroken and distraught after my husband’s passing, I realized pretty early on that I’m still alive, and living everyday of my life to the fullest is no joke or cliché. I feel so fortunate to have had him in my life for over 30 years, and I try to carry him forth in my heart at all times. My friends have been, and continue to be, a tremendous source of support and love. So I would suggest that, when people feel vulnerable and hopeless after a loss like this, to try to be as open to that love and support as possible. It really helped me and my daughters, and I’ll be forever grateful to them for that. Also, I immediately sought out grief counseling resources at hospice, and have really benefited from both one-on-one counseling and group situations. Any support is helpful.

"COSMOS"
Ceramic urn by artist STEVEN FORBES-DESOULE

It is so important for us to open ourselves up to the help and support that is offered. It’s easy to say ‘Thanks, I’m OK’ when you’re not. One of the most valuable parts of a funeral or memorial service is that expression and offering of help and care by friends and family. We need that when we grieve and we need people to continue to look in on us in the weeks and months after a death. If we try too hard to be ‘strong’ though, the offers of help run out when we can need them the most.

Many people find a comfort in keeping the cremated remains of their loved ones at home with them; especially in a beautiful container. When a family keeps cremated remains at home, eventually they must be transferred to the next generation – if there is one, and that relative may not wish to be the caretaker. Do you think that families plan for this eventuality? What are your thoughts on this kind of succession planning?

I think this is a very important issue. It’s something that needs forethought, as much as succession planning for any other possession. If no one is open to assuming that position, then I would suggest that the ashes are eventually scattered in a special place, or placed somewhere like a columbarium niche or burial spot.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences with my readers. You’ve given us a lot to think about.

These are issues that I think about all the time, and I greatly appreciate the opportunity to articulate them in this setting. Thank you!

http://www.shineonbrightly.com/

For related posts, please visit

Fireman's Urn is a work of Love: The final honor

Memorial Quilts: Comforters of the Grieving

Closure for a Soldier's Family

"Vietnam Soldier's Burial Brings Closure" was the heartwarming headline in Sunday's Amarillo.com. Usually in funeral service we avoid the term 'closure'. Closure can imply that everything has been resolved and grieving is over, but we know that it never really ends.

Certainly in this case though, a very difficult chapter has closed for a grieving family, and they can begin to move forward in life again. When families are denied the opportunity to say goodbye to their dead, to accept the reality of the situation, to have a meaningful ceremony and a place to visit their loved one, we realize just how important these things are.

Unfortunately all over this country, families are choosing not to say meaningful goodbyes and are choosing not to inter their loved ones in permanent places, and they suffer because of it. Here is an excerpt from the article.

Spc. Lawrence Lee Aldrich is one of the 58,000 men listed on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, killed in his 20th year when a 750-pound bomb landed on his position in the middle of a firefight May 6, 1968. Until last year, he also was one of the 1,700 men whose remains weren't recovered during or after the 10-year war in Southeast Asia.

But one day last autumn, a day almost no one in the family thought would come, a day Larry's dad died waiting for, the government called Aldrich's oldest surviving sibling and told him his brother no longer was missing. "It took me several weeks to recover," said Darwin Aldrich, who was two years younger and graduated from high school just days after Larry's death. "It opens up your head to a lot of memories and your heart to a lot of emotions that haven't been experienced in a long time."

The family had a memorial service in 1968 and another one in 1996, the second one an attempt to bring closure for Aldrich's aging father. But no gravestone marker existed for Aldrich, no place to visit on his birthday, no place to put a flag on Memorial Day. On Saturday, though, Larry Aldrich was buried in a family plot at Greenwood Cemetery outside downtown Fort Worth. His siblings had his casket placed on top of his father's.

"Part of my dad's heart believed that Larry had been killed," said Janine Peck, Aldrich's younger sister, who lives in North Richland Hills. "But it's very hard to come to grips with something when you don't have anything to grip. There's always a little part of yourself that believes there's still a chance that they were wrong. Dad held on to that chance until his dying day."

for the full article, visit Amarillo.com

The Sympathy Note: Advice from the Art of Manliness Blog

In previous posts, I have shared some of my own thoughts and the work of others on the very important topic of what to say to the grieving. Yesterday on the consistently useful and interesting "Art of Manliness" website, writers Brett and Kate McKay gave some of the best advice I've read on the subject. In discussing the art of writing a sympathy note, and sharing their own experience in receiving sympathy notes after the loss of a child, they demonstrate the importance of writing these notes and give a great tutorial on how to do it. Most of this advice is just as useful when talking to the bereaved. Here's a taste. For the full text, visit The Art of Manliness.

How to Write a Sympathy Note

Use nice stationery. Casual notes can be written on whatever is handy. But the sympathy note requires something nicer. Death is the gravest of matters and your medium should reflect your respect for the weight of the situation.

Keep it short and simple. A lot of men can’t get started writing because they think they have to come up with something deep and philosophical about death, dying, and hope. While the bad news is that there’s nothing you can write to take away a person’s pain, the good news is that the grieving friend knows this just as well as you do. They’re not expecting something profound. They just want to know that you’re thinking of them and feeling for them.

Start off by expressing your sadness at hearing about the death. “I was so sorry to hear about the death of your father.”

Share a memory. There’s not much you can do to alleviate someone’s grief, but sharing a memory of the deceased person comes close. It gives the person a few moments to laugh and remember. And it warms their heart to know that others have special memories of their loved one that they carry with them. Share some of the special qualities and favorite memories about the deceased.

If you didn’t know the person your friend lost, then skip this step. If your friend lost a baby, tell them that you understand that even though your friend never got to meet their child, they’re grieving over the loss of the future they’ve been dreaming about with him or her.

Don’t try to explain the loss. If you’re a religious person, don’t offer platitudes like “This is God’s plan,” or “This is God’s will.” This might be something the person comes to believe in the future, but in the midst of their grief, the idea of God snatching their loved one from the earth is liable to piss them off. I knew a guy who lost his wife in a car accident, leaving him to raise his 5 young children alone. He said to me, “If I hear one more person say, ‘God needed her more in heaven,’ I’m going to knock them out.”

Don’t compare your loss with theirs. This is especially true if you haven’t experienced the exact same thing. If their child has died, don’t tell them how you know what they’re going through because your dog just expired last week. You’ll come off as callous and tick them off. If you have experienced a similar loss, a reference to your ability to truly sympathize is appropriate. But don’t go on and on about how you felt during that time; the focus should remain on the other person.

Show your solidarity. Let them know that you’re thinking and praying for them. If you or your friend or family member is not religious and a reference to prayer would not be appropriate, simply say, “My heart and thoughts go out to you during this difficult time.”

Close by offering your help. Let the person know that if there is anything you can do for them or if they ever want to talk or hang out, to please let you know.

Photos: The Art of Manliness, Books do Furnish a Room

Fireman’s Urn is a Work of Love: The Final Honor

9/15/09

Edward D. Hamilton, Jr. was a special guy. When he died, his family and friends held a wonderful and meaningful service for him. After he was cremated, his wife Nancie wanted to place his remains in a wonderful and meaningful urn. She couldn’t find the right one, so she made it herself.

Ed was a volunteer fireman for 32 years in Nutley, New Jersey. Although he would have liked to work full time as a firefighter, the demands of supporting his family lead him to work in other fields during his time with the department. While working in Nutley, it was easy for him to respond to fires as they broke out, but later, even when working out of town, he still found ways to help out when the department really needed him. He would leave his radio at home with Nancie. When a demanding fire broke out in Nutley, she would call him, and Ed would drive the 45 minutes back to home to help. Ed was a civic minded man who gave a great deal of help and support to his community, his department, his family, and friends. Although he was usually a white collar worker, he would often ‘turn his collar around’ to listen and help with the concerns of his co-workers.

Ed's sons, Dave and Chris with Chief Tom Peters

One of the many places Ed worked over the years was at Irvine Cozzarelli Memorial Home in Belleville for high school buddy, Jimmy Cozzarelli. When he died in September of 2003, Nancie arranged for services with Mr. Cozzarelli. She was grateful for the caring and personalized services her family received from their old friend, the stories they shared, and the incredible outpouring of support shown to them from their community during the day and a half of visitation when the line of guests ran out the door.

The fire truck carrying Ed pulls out from the Irvine Cozzarelli Memorial Home in Belleville

Dave and Chris on the back of the engine carrying their father

The Nutley firefighters provided a color guard two fire trucks for the procession. Ed and Nancie’s sons, firefighters themselves, rode on the truck for their father’s last ride. The meaning and symbolism of this procession continues to be a powerful and emotional memory for Nancie, who can still picture her sons in their uniforms riding on the fire truck with their father.

The Fire Department Salutes Ed. His turnout and helmet stand before them

Nancie was overwhelmed by the outpouring of support from friends and even people she never expected to see at the service, but she was in a fog and busy looking after others instead of accepting support for herself. She suggests that grieving families allow others to help them and refrain from telling callers that they are ‘all right’ when they really just need someone to talk with.

Following services, Ed was cremated, and though she was offered many choices for Ed’s urn, Nancie felt that none would reflect his personality well enough. Eventually, she brought Ed home in a temporary container and experienced a fear of opening up Ed’s temporary urn. She knew her fear was irrational, but it was there nonetheless. I think that many people in her situation experience the same thing. They do not know what they will find, and that unknown can be intimidating. Before long, Nancie overcame her fear and was relieved to find that no disembodied ‘Addams family hand’ popped out. Now she needed to find a place for Ed and it had to be the right place. She wanted the urn to fit the person Ed was, something that would pay tribute to him and ‘do him justice’.

Driving past Nutley Headquarters

Many firefighters are collectors of objects that remind them of their passion, and Nancie found inspiration in an antique copper fire extinguisher that had been converted into a lamp. Being a firefighter had been such an important part of his life that it seemed fitting. After disassembling the lamp and experiencing a few hurdles in the task of inurnment, Ed’s cremated remains were placed inside the two foot tall extinguisher. Having finally found the right place for Ed’s cremated remains, Nancie experienced a sense of peace. She also found a new purpose; to help the families of other firefighters by providing them with similar urns.

It was no easy task for a novice to find a fabricator for her design, a scaled-down version of the antique extinguisher, but Nancy persevered, and after many trials, was able to produce the ‘Final Honor’ urn. Ed’s cremated remains have since been transferred to the new model, which, at 13 ½” high and 5 ¾” in diameter is a more appropriate size for cremated remains than the original antique. This urn also has considerable heft, weighing 9.6 lbs. empty. Nancie has found comfort in the presence of Ed’s urn, next to the hearth in her living room. She knows that wherever she moves, she can take Ed with her.

Carefully lifting the casket off the engine

In talking with Nancie, I found that I had a great deal of respect for her. Her husband’s cremated remains are very precious to her, and she would not settle with putting them just anywhere, it had to be right. She held out until she could find the right place, and then went about the long and difficult process of making it available for others. I wonder how many people told her she was crazy or it wouldn’t sell, or it couldn’t be made for a reasonable price anywhere. Nonetheless, she believed in herself and what she was doing, and, after almost 6 years, has succeeded in creating a wonderful urn. What I like most about this piece is that it isn’t some designer’s idea of what might sell, it’s an expression of a woman’s love for her husband, and it shows.

The Final Honor Urn

When I meet with families who choose cremation, I try to impress upon them what a great variety of different urns there are to choose from. A funeral home cannot possibly keep an example of each on hand, but we have catalogues full of different designs; from scattering urns to memory chests to urns that celebrate many different passions and interests. I try to keep some interesting pieces like the ‘Final Honor’ on hand to stretch the imaginations of family members. Their loved one may not have been a firefighter, but if they see something like this, they understand that there will be something out there for them too. Some want a bell jar, and some want a one of a kind sculpture. What’s important is that the urn is a meaningful container for the person whose remains rest there. Rest in Peace, Ed.

For more information on the Final Honor Urn, visit Nancie’s web site http://www.thefinalhonor.com/index.html

Service Photo credit - Joyce Frese