Aggregate Death
School Bus Drivers Final Stop
Hindt Funeral Home of Grand Meadow, Minn. gave Glen Davis a personalized casket that Davis loves.
Here’s part of the story from Matthew Stolle of Post-Bulletin of Rochester:
Many of the best years of Glen Davis’ life were spent driving a school bus for Grand Meadow (Minn.) Public Schools.
He drove bus for 55 years. There was hardly anything about it he didn’t like. He loved the kids. And when he finally decided to call it quits a decade ago, he wasn’t sure it was the right decision.
So, Davis draws comfort from the thought that when he makes that final bus trip — the one that all of us will make one day — his final resting place will be in a casket decorated like a Grand Meadow school bus, right down to a painted red stop sign on the side and the No. 3, the number of the first bus he drove when he started out in 1949.
“Oh, I loved it,” Davis said, recalling the moment he first laid eyes on it. “My family was a little leery of it, it being a little bit personal.”
His daughter, Lisa Hodge, recalled initial thoughts of disquiet that a casket adorned as a school bus might seem a bit macabre.
But she found herself “pleasantly surprised” when she first saw it.
The craftsmanship was so well done and her dad’s response was so overwhelmingly positive that she soon saw it as he did.
“He’s just so proud of it,” Hodge said. “He (drove) bus for all those years. I bet he’s driven three generations in some families.” READ MORE HERE.
There’s a huge “personalization” movement in the funeral industry. We have personalized urns, personalized caskets, personalized EVERYTHING. I’m pretty skeptical of the push as it seems to be a way for both attempt relevancy and gain better sales. Many of the “personalized” products border cheesy and cheap and the ones that aren’t cheesy and cheap are exorbitantly expensive.
But what the Hindt Funeral Home did for Glen Davis is good. They were able to find a key component of his life and make it into something that Glen himself appreciated. And no doubt everyone who sees Glen in that casket (when he dies) will appreciate how it represents his life.
When personalization is thoughtful and heartfelt, it’s both meaningful and helpful.
A Revolutionary Plan for End-of-Life Care
© 2009 Ulrich Joho, Flickr | CC-BY-SA | via Wylio
Here’s a guest post and promotional from Dr. Angelo E. Volandes:
There is an unspoken dark side of American medicine-keeping patients alive at any price. Two thirds of Americans die in healthcare institutions tethered to machines and tubes at bankrupting costs, even though research shows that most prefer to die at home in comfort, surrounded by loved ones.
Dr. Angelo E. Volandes believes that a life well lived deserved a good ending. In The Conversation: A Revolutionary Plan for End-of-Life Care, he shares the stories of seven patients and seven very different end-of-life experiences. These stories demonstrate that what people with a serious illness, who are approaching the end of their lives, need most is not new technologies but one simple thing: The Conversation. He argues for a radical re-envisioning of the patient-doctor relationship and offers ways for patients and their families to talk about this difficult issue to ensure that patients will be at the center and in charge of their medical care.
It might be the most important conversation you ever have.
Here’s a video that captures its message.
The Embalmer
If it wasn’t for the music, this video would be one of the better embalming short films on the internet. That music though.
Ash Wednesday: The Day We Embrace Death
© 2006 Sarah (Rosenau) Korf, Flickr | CC-BY-SA | via Wylio
Today is Ash Wednesday. It’s day when the sign of the cross is inscribed on foreheads of Christian believers. And whether or not you consider yourself apart of the Christian church, there’s value to be learned from “Ash Wednesday.”
Ash Wednesday isn’t suppose to be comfortable. It’s a day when the Christian church takes repentance public. A day when something usually reserve for the private sphere gets pushed into the public sphere. It’s a day when repentance is there for all to see, with the sign of the cross inscribed in ash on one’s forehead.
It’s a public acknowledgement that we are mortal. That we — and all we stand for — are dust.
“Ash Wednesday” is a time of relinquishment … relinquishment of our project of immortality.
We are all — religious or not — seeking immortality in one way or another.
There are five main ways (per Robert Lifton) we pursue symbolic immortality:
Through our family heritage. Our children, grandchildren, etc.
Through our work. Our businesses, our job, our artwork, our discoveries, etc.
Through the well-being of nature. “So that our children can live better than we do”.
Through getting in touch with a higher power.
Through our involvement with a community larger than ourselves. Political party, religion, community service, the armed forces, etc.
Ash Wednesday is a day when we reflect on our immortality projects and acknowledge the fact that all our works will turn to dust. It’s a day when we stop denying death.
It’s good for us to remember that the works of our hands will not last forever. That our kingdoms will fall. That America will one day be no more. That our bodies will die. That our jobs, our business, our children, our name, our political ideals, and even our religion will one day find themselves in the annuls of history. And that history too will one day forget.
Ash Wednesday isn’t suppose to be comfortable. No, there’s nothing comfortable about this day. Today is a day that we repent of our immortality projects. Today is a day we remember that “from dust you were made and to dust you shall return.”
The value of Ash Wednesday is this: that in forgetting our immortality projects, we might strive for life now. That we forget ourselves and remember that today is all we have. And that love may be the only thing that makes today valuable.
