Caleb Wilde
(218 comments, 980 posts)
Posts by Caleb Wilde
Man Standing for His Funeral Dressed in Green Lantern Costume
Renato Garcia, 55, of Puerto Rico, recently died and was embalmed in such a way that he could be stood up. He was then dressed in a Green Lantern costume. This isn’t the first time the Marin Funeral Home has done some exotic embalming jobs. They’re responsible for an embalmed boxer in a boxing ring, the embalmed motorcyclist on a motorcycle, embalming a grandma in her rocking chair and now the Green Lantern:
Via The Daily Mail (the news source with the utmost journalistic integrity)
The man’s corpse was not only upright but was surrounded by flowers as he stood in the suit complete with the Green Lantern power ring.
She said: ‘He did have really bad asthma and was regularly getting oxygen in the local hospital. He used to turn up there as well with his Green Lantern costume.
‘When he died it was the thing everybody was talking about, and so we thought it was obviously so much a part of him that we decided to bury him with it.’
She added: ‘In keeping with the Puerto Rican tradition of embalming bodies for funerals, there was no point in burying him in the suit if nobody saw that he was wearing it, and therefore he was put on display in the funeral hall.’
Here’s a video that has bit more detail:
WHEN FUNERALS TURN UGLY
Today’s guest post is written by Pastor Dieter Reda:
Grief sometimes brings out the worst in people. Add to that the fact that funerals sometimes bring families together even when they don’t want to be together, and you have a recipe for disaster. I have witnessed several family conflicts at funerals but one remains indelibly fixed in memory, as if it were yesterday.
It involved a large family that had been feuding for decades. As with most family feuds, many did not even remember what started the feud, only that there is an “us” and a “they” and never the twain shall speak nor meet. Now the matriarch of the family had died, and two siblings, who hadn’t spoken to one another in decades both arrived at the funeral home expecting that they would be in charge of the arrangements.
The arrangements conference turned ugly as the old bitterness surfaced with everyone’s defenses down It became a shouting match. The funeral director tried in vain to mediate, and without taking sides of course, he pleaded with all to call a truce until their mother had been buried. No dice. Soon it became physical and the funeral director threatened to call the police. Before he could do so, the big brother, all 300 pounds of him landed at the bottom of a stairway. The director called 911 which brought police, ambulance, and fire department to the funeral home. The big brother was taken to the hospital with multiple fractures to spine and hip. He was in the hospital for his own mother’s funeral. The person who had done the shoving was charged with assault.
It was my task to officiate at the funeral, as the deceased was a member of my congregation. I did what I always do, and called a family meeting to plan the service. There needed to be two meetings, because hardly anyone was on speaking terms. There were two separate viewings on two separate evenings so that the warring factions did not have to interact with one another. That was ackward for friends – which visitation do you attend, without offending the other side? The service itself was held at the funeral home, which was configured in such a way that each family group could sit in separate rooms and still see and hear me, without having to look at each other. They rode to the cemetery in separate limousines. Around the grave, they stood as far away as possible. The post-service reception was at the church, with the principal mourners at opposite ends of the room of course. I made sure to spend an equal amount of time with each. As I started to go over to the other group, someone from the first group asked, “why do you have to go and speak to them?” My answer was simply, “because they too have lost their mother.”
Afterwards one of the siblings asked to speak to me privately outside. He took out a wad of cash and began to peel off some big bills to give me. I explained that my honorarium had already been taken care of with a check from the funeral home, the amount of which would be added to the family’s bill. (It’s called a disbursement in the industry). At which point he hollered at me, “so my money isn’t good enough for you?” and stuffed the bills into my suit jacket. I took them out and counted them and said that I would treat them as a donation to the church, and make sure that he received a tax-deductible receipt. I knew that if I accepted the money, there would be all sorts of innuendo about double dipping for openers.
How can families avoid this kind of thing?
- Keep lines of communication open. If there are differences, resolve them as sooner rather than later. Life is too short.
- Be sure you know who legally has the final say about whatever your wishes are for your final arrangements. In some jurisdictions the next of kin (and the law spells out who that is and in what order they have the power to act) and in others the executor of the estate has the final say. Make sure it is someone whom you trust to carry out your wishes.
- Pre-arrangements help the survivors understand what your wishes are, rather than having to guess “what she would have wanted”. Make these arrangements when you are not under any pressure. Pre-pay if you can.
- If you are a surviving adult, then behave like an adult. Don’t act like an idiot, because if you do, what people will remember and talk about you for a long time, instead of your loved one.
- Respect is a currency that must be earned, and if lost cannot always be recovered. Perhaps your actions will be forgotten by some, but not by those closest to you, like your children who pick up more than you think! Don’t forfeit this currency, just to make a point!
- Remember, the funeral is not about you.
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Dieter Reda has been an ordained Minister for the past 34 years and served various churches in central and western Canada. Since 2003 he is senior pastor at Mission Baptist Church in Hamilton, Ontario (Canada). His blog of pastoral musings on various issues is at www.dieterreda.com and you can follow him on Twitter @Dieterreda.
93 Year Old Widower Writes Poem to Late Wife
Bob Lowe, 92, wrote, “My wife died 3 months ago after 65 years of marriage but more to the point 72 years since we first kissed ….” He wrote this poem in her honor:
I am alone, now I know it’s true
There was a time when we were two
Those were the days when we would chat
Doing little jobs of this and that
We’d go to the shops and select our meals
But now I’m one I know how it feels
To try and cook or have meals on wheels
The rooms are empty there’s not a sound
Sometimes I’m lost and wander round
To look for jobs that I can do
To bring back the days when we were two
When darkness falls and curtains drawn
That’s when I feel most forlorn
But I must be honest and tell the truth
I’m not quite alone and here’s the proof
Because beside me in her chair
She quietly waits our time to share
Kath said to me some time ago
Darling when the time comes for us to go
Let’s mix our ashes and be together
So we can snuggle up for ever and ever.
This poem was posted at the Silver Line Website. Silver Line is a nonprofit organization in Scotland that provides friendship and advice to the elderly population.
Presidential Grief: Five Stories of Death in the White House
Today’s guest post is written by Chad Harris:
The presidency of the United States often seems like a job filled with perks, and we so often think of the man and the office as a single entity. They often have to lead the nation in its grief response to tragedy – after all, to whom do we look in times of crisis? The president. But let’s not forget there is an individual behind that title – and often, presidents and their families have had to cope with grief and tragedy on intensely personal levels while residing behind the gates of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. In honor of Presidents Day on February 16, when our nation honors all those who have taken up the mantel of national leadership, here is a brief look at a few presidents and their families who knew the sting of grief and death all too well within the walls of the White House.
Andrew Jackson (1829-1837): The president known as “Old Hickory” had a long, storied military career that included a decisive victory at the final battle of the War of 1812, the Battle of New Orleans – two weeks after the war had officially ended. His personal life was no less full of controversy, having married his wife Rachel in 1791, only to have it declared a bigamous union, leading to their divorce in 1794. After things were cleared up, the pair remarried soon after, and would remain married until Mrs. Jackson died on December 22, 1828 – 72 days before her husband assumed the presidency and months after the death of the couple’s adopted Native American son Lyncoya in early 1828.
Franklin Pierce (1853-1857): A lesser-known chief executive and widely proclaimed one of our nation’s most incompetent presidents, President Pierce battled for years with substance abuse issues, and was by no means a stranger to grief. His oldest son, Franklin, died three days after birth, while middle son Frank Robert died at age 11 from typhus. The Pierces left New Hampshire in January 1853 to prepare for the president-elect’s inauguration on March 4. On January 6 – 57 days before Pierce would become president – the train carrying the future First Family derailed and tumbled down an embankment. Most on the train only suffered minor injuries, but there was one fatality – the Pierce’s youngest son, Benjamin, was beheaded in the accident. Pierce’s presidential years are largely seen as a mere footnote by most historians, but tradition was born out of the family’s grief: the placement of a Christmas tree in the White House, where there has been one every year since 1856.
Abraham Lincoln (1861-1865): Not only did President Lincoln have to guide the nation through the struggle to reunite a nation torn asunder by the Civil War, but he also had to try and hold his family together when youngest son Willie died of typhoid fever in 1862. The 11-year-old’s funeral was held in the White House, and for years afterward, First Lady Mary Todd Lincoln would often converse with her dead son. She would go on to outlive three of her four children, as well as her husband, who was assassinated in her presence. She was committed to an institution for a year, suffering from what was likely depression exacerbated by bereavement overload and very complicated grief. She would spend the last decade of her life largely hidden from society.
John F. Kennedy (1961-1963): President Kennedy and his wife Jacqueline brought a youthful energy to the White House that many Americans were completely enamored with, awed by the seemingly perfect, beautiful couple and delighting in the antics of their young children, Caroline and John Jr. (who was born three weeks after his father’s election to the presidency). Unbeknownst to many, Mrs. Kennedy suffered a miscarriage in 1955 and gave birth to a stillborn daughter in August of 1956. On August 7, 1963, the First Lady gave birth to a son, Patrick, while the family was vacationing in Massachusetts. For 39 hours, doctors tried to keep the baby, who had been born 5 ½ weeks early, alive while the president kept a nearly uninterrupted vigil, watching over the youngster. Patrick died on August 9. Within 3 ½ months, the First Lady would again find herself mourning – this time for her husband, who was assassinated on November 22, 1963, in Dallas. The president, Jackie, Patrick, and the couple’s stillborn daughter are all buried next to one another in Arlington National Cemetery.
This is but a sampling of those who experienced the death of a child or spouse before or during their tenure in office. Six other first ladies besides Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Kennedy had to mourn amid the tears of a nation when their husbands died in office, whether of illness (William Henry Harrison, Zachary Taylor, Warren G. Harding, and Franklin D. Roosevelt) or an assassin’s bullet (James Garfield and William McKinley). The White House may be one of the most secure homes in the world, but not even high-tech security can insulate presidents and their families from death and the resulting wave of grief.
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About the author: Chad Harris is a graduate student at Hood College in Maryland, where he is pursuing a master’s degree in thanatology, as well as coursework in gerontology. He also holds a bachelor’s degree in journalism from the University of Central Arkansas, as well as a master’s degree in social work from Case Western Reserve University. He is currently researching the role of mass media in shaping people’s perceptions of death and the impact of media coverage on grief and mourning, with the hopes of helping promote more responsible coverage of tragic events.
10 Ways Children Can Be Involved in Funerals
Me and my great grandmother
There’s a concept called “disenfranchised grief.” The idea is that there’s certain types of grief relationships that society either downplays as less important or outright ignores. For example, the grief over a pet’s death; the death of an ex-spouse; and — a big one — miscarriages and stillbirths. But perhaps the biggest segment of disenfranchised grievers are children.
Children are disenfranchised for two reasons: their parents haven’t confronted death on a personal level and have become so frightened of it that their natural reaction is to shield their children from the perceived “monster of death.” And two, parents simply repeat the evasive cliches and religious euphemisms they’ve been taught, leaving kids to believe that the deceased is just “sleeping” or “gone to be with the angels.” Cliches act as an unintentional defense mechanism that often keep the children from full death confrontation and thus grief.
I believe that allowing children to be a part of the death conversation and allowing them to be a part of the funeral gives them permission to be a part of the community of grief.
Many of the following suggestions depend on the age, maturity and level of comfort the child has with death. Certainly you never want to force a child to confront death. But if they want a role in the funeral process, here’s ten ideas (many of which were sourced and screen captured from the Confessions of a Funeral Director Facebook community):
1. Presence.
Involvement doesn’t necessarily mean DOING something. Involvement can simply mean BEING present in the context of community. When it comes to death, perhaps the greatest form of involvement is presence. And perhaps the easiest way to determine if your child should or shouldn’t be present is to simply ask them.
As a funeral director, I’ve seen children of all stages at the deathbed of the deceased, many have been brought while their parents made the funeral arrangements, they’ve been present for private viewings, present for public viewings and present for the funeral. It’s okay (maybe even healthy) to involve your children in as much of the funeral process as you want them to see.
2. Burial Involvement.
3. Greetings.
Have them great the family and friends that are coming to the funeral. Usually there’s a stand with a registrar book and memorial cards. I’ve seen young children take charge of getting people to sign in and handing out the memorial cards. It’s a very positive and fulfilling role for the children.
4. Artwork
5. Sing Some Songs.
6. Hand Out Flowers at the Graveside.
Sometimes flowers will be handed out at the graveside as a “final token of remembrance.” It’s a beautiful thing when children hand out the flowers.
7. Junior Pallbearers.
8. Tactile Death Confrontation
9. Eulogize the Deceased. 
10. Bedside Care.
