Aggregate Death

11 Death Related Facts

Back by popular demand … death facts.1

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One of the Best Obituaries. Ever.

Or, at least according to The Huffington Post, who called it, “The Best Obituary.  Ever.”

 Margaret (Marge) Aitken Holcombe wrote her obituary before she died.  And it is pretty good.

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I died at Hilton Head Hospital from a wide assortment of ailments on Tuesday, August 12, 2014. When a friend facetiously asked if I was writing my obituary before or after I passed away, I told her “Carol, I know my limitations.

I was born in Paterson, N.J. to Robert Jr. and Isabella Findlay, Aitken, wonderful parents, on January 20, 1930. It was the era of “Children should be seen and not heard” and my sister Heather and I were thought to be deaf mutes for most of our childhood.

After graduation from Paterson Central High school In January, 1948, I took a “summer job” with N.J. Bell Telephone Co. as a stenographer (who could not type – and never could) and ended my 35 years with them as District Manager, Residence Services. I never thought of giving up my day job to attend college because I was making the magnificent sum of $33 a week. With the help of that lavish salary and a couple of scholarships, I was relieved – make that worn out -that I did graduate in four years with a Rutgers BA in social studies with highest honors. I did this by concurrently attending Fairleigh Dickinson, Fordham and Rutgers Universities while holding down a full time job. I hope you won’t think me otiose. (I always wanted to use that word.)

When we retired to the Island in 1984, I volunteered for the Hilton Head Orchestra League, was President of the Port Royal Racquet Club, and served on the Hilton Head Hospital Auxiliary Board. I chaired the hospital’s 1990 Charity Ball and also chaired fund-raising dinners for the hospital. As a board member of the Friends of Hilton Head Library, I initiated the ongoing Book Break series and chaired the 2000 and 2001 events. And you thought I was just another plain face, but very wrinkled.

At the hospital, my volunteer job was to prepare the production reports for one department which I did for 20 years and was just getting the hang of it, when catastrophe struck. I had worked out the calculations by sliding counters along rods on my abacus. One of the important hospital staff spied this little old lady happily working her ancient tool and didn’t feel that it quite projected the image that our hospital wanted – a high tech facility fast-forwarding into modern times. In short order, the abacus was gone (I think to the Smithsonian) and the reports were outsourced to India.

I enjoyed my life and want to thank some of those that made this possible. Topping the list is family and close survivors, the most important, my husband Jack, was always my knight in shinning[sic] armor – well, actually my knight in tennis shorts, but for a romantic spin, I’ll go with the armor. He was taken from me suddenly in April, 2014; he’ll live with me forever.

Surviving is my sister, Heather (Emil) Scaglione of Lavallette, N.J. She is funny, warm, overly generous and the best sister, bar none. My adored nieces are Susan (David) Helterban of Sewell, N.J.; Patricia (Robert) O’Herlihy of Ridgewood, N.J.; Roberta Tomlinson of Lavallette, N.J. I’m fortunate to have a special cousin, Dawn (Kurt) Eigenmann of Sun City and lucky, to have inherited stepson, Jon (Charlotte) of Medford, N.J. and stepdaughter Lisa Holcombe of Santa Cruz, California. Lighting up our lives were our “adopted daughters”, Beverly Maloney and Jessica Bevan of Hilton Head. I was blessed with an angel who became my friend and caregiver, Elaine Kellmen.

Carol Mueller of Hilton Head gave new meaning to the word “friend”. She was my personal shopper for everything from greeting cards to clothes. She brought lunch every week and encouraged me to socialize, exercise and get well, generally making a pest of herself. (Kidding, Carol.) I don’t know what I would have done without her and thank goodness I never had to find out.

I am beholden to Burke’s Main Street Pharmacy for letting me use their store as a meeting place with old friends; it was the center of my social life. David, the younger and more handsome (his words) and Tim, the older and more intelligent (his words) of the brothers Burke would ask “Can we help you or would you just like to wander aimlessly?” I chose the latter and came to know their stock better than they did. Our condo looked like Burke’s Annex; I had everything from a simple cane to a wheelchair. When we moved, Burke’s sent my prescriptions right to my door at Seabrook and their friendly delivery man’s knock became the highlight of my day. We’re talking mad social life here.

The Seabrook was a godsend. The services they offered were perfect – I didn’t have to leave the premises. The professional and helpful staff, the friendly atmosphere, makes it a special place. But the jewel of Seabrook is the food, for this “World’s Best Worst Cook” to have the island’s ultimate restaurant available each evening was beyond my wildest dreams. My waistline, if you could find it, was testament to Seabrook’s cuisine.

I’m thankful for the uplifting courses offered by Life Long Learning of Hilton Head Island. I joined LLHHI because just being among them made me seem more intelligent that I was – an easy task. This organization advertises that the courses, are taught by our peers – my peers they weren’t – not even close.

Before coming to the Island, the only thing I wrote were checks. Then the Island Packet, in 1996, asked for comments on how to unclog traffic problems on Rt. 278. I sent in a column that suggested, humorously, that the solution was for drivers to make Right Turns Only.” Thus began a 12 year “career” writing a monthly humor column for the Packet. Fortunately, my editor was David Lauderdale.

Not only is he a talented writer and a superb storyteller, but more importantly a good man. In case I make a return trip here, I want to cover all the bases.

As a surprise for our 35th wedding anniversary, my husband published my first 84 columns in a book titled, “May All Your Turns Be Right Ones.” I never made left turns; it took a little longer to get places, but it cut down on the agita. The Hilton Head Rotary Club marketed the book with all proceeds going to their project of building a new home for Deep Well.

Then for my 80th birthday, my spouse had the remaining columns set in a book, cleverly titled, “May All Your Turns Always Be Right Ones.” Again, the Rotary club sold the books with the monies designated to building a new home for Memory Matters. At a Rotary meeting we were invited to attend, Jack and I were shocked and surprised to be presented with a Paul Harris fellowship. We were honored and humbled being aware of how infrequently these fellowships are awarded to Non-Rotarians, I likened it to be second only to receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor. Thank you Hilton Head Rotary.

In 2012, The Girl Scouts of America celebrated their 100th anniversary. Being a Girl Scout added so much to my life. I was honored to be a scout and absolutely thrilled to spend three summer weeks each year at Camp Te Ata in upstate New York. My husband was fascinated when I explained that one of our projects was to start a fire in the woods and heat some stew ingredients (don’t ask) in a tin coffee can. It was a meal to die for, which I’m certain, some campers did. Strange, I never had one request for the “Camp Te Ata” stew recipe.

Everyone thinks that his or her doctor is the best, but I win this contest hands down. My oncologist, Dr. Gary Thomas, who, by the way is a dead ringer for the comic actor, Jim Carrey, is a credit to his profession, and a source of strength to his patients. His staff of angels is incredible. When he called Jack and me to his office to confirm the diagnosis of multiple myeloma, my husband asked if we would see any physical changes in me. He answered, “She’ll probably grow a tail” – Jim Carrey cold not have quipped it better. Luckily, Veronica’s Secret assured me that their back-slit hostess skirt was ideally suited for my condition. What a relief.

Dr. Michael Platt, my ideal primary physician for over 20 years is the kind of doctor everyone wishes they had. He is a warm, caring man who takes time with each patient; a superb diagnostician and an all-around good human being. For all these reasons, I call him “Dr. Perfect,” (I’m sure he’s thrilled with that title). Aware of my limited mental capabilities, he scheduled extra time for my visits. Dr. P spoke slowly, drew diagrams using simple stick figures and demonstrated my problem with the full-figured skeleton to help me out. His nurse, Barbara, was always patient and kind. I couldn’t have been in better hands.

A big hug to Dr. Dorian Colorado and the wonderful staff at the Animal Care Clinic. When our 14 year old Cocker Spaniel, Mr. Chips, was failing, Dr. Colorado took him to her home so he would be surrounded by familiar faces and fed him bits of his favorite food. She summoned us to her clinic on a Sunday so the three of us could say our goodbyes with loving last kisses from Chips AND she delivered her first child the next morning. I told Dr. C that when my time comes to be “put down”, she has the job.

The delight of our later years is the already named Natalie-Love-Bug (don’t you love it?) a friendly, huggy-kissy cocker spaniel.

Because our pets give us unconditional love and enrich our lives, I would be honored to have donations made to the Hilton Head Humane Association, P.O. Box 21790, Hilton Head Island, SC, 29925 or Hospice Care of the Lowcountry, PO Box 3827, Bluffton, SC, 29910.

I’ve had a wonderful life and thank you to all who made it so.

Love, Marge

Ten Photos that Give You the Feels

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This extraordinary scene took place recently at the Sanaga-Yong Chimpanzee Rescue Center in Cameroon, West Africa. 

When a chimp called Dorothy, who was in her late 40s, died of heart failure, her fellow apes seemed to be stricken by sorrow. 

As they wrapped their arms around each other in a gesture of solidarity, Dorothy’s female keeper gently settled her into the wheelbarrow which carried her to her final resting place – not before giving this much-loved inhabitant of the centre a final affectionate stroke on the forehead.

Via Daily Mail.

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Photo by Monica Szczupider

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This photo shows two power linemen, Randall Champion and J. D. Thompson, at the top of a utility pole. They had been performing routine maintenance when Champion brushed one of the high voltage lines at the very top. These are the lines that can be heard “singing” with electricity. Over 4000 volts entered Champion’s body and instantly stopped his heart (an electric chair uses about 2000 volts).

His safety harness prevented a fall, and Thompson, who had been ascending below him, quickly reached him and performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He was unable to perform CPR given the circumstances, but continued breathing into Champion’s lungs until he felt a slight pulse, then unbuckled his harness and descended with him on his shoulder. Thompson and another worker administered CPR on the ground, and Champion was moderately revived by the time paramedics arrived, eventually making a full recovery.

Via IMGUR

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Photo by Rocco Morabito

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Thania Sayne leans on the headstone of her husband the day before their wedding anniversary on 16 October 2013.

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Photo by Manuel Balce Ceneta

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The tattoo of wounded soldier Kyle Hockenberry becomes truth.

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Photo by Laura Rauch

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A bus of caring people save a woman who tried to commit suicide in China.

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Photo by scnews.com

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This photo is from the textbook, The Last Dance. It’s captioned, “The classmates of a murdered child carry his coffin to the grave.” The photo is both tragic and beautiful.6

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This father lost his son to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome last year. He picked a pretty beautiful way to remember him, he got a tattoo of his son’s laugh (in a wave form) over his heart.

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A dying cancer patient who worked at a Dutch zoo returned to say goodbye on Wednesday. Lying in a hospital bed placed in the giraffe habitat at Rotterdam’s Diergaarde Blijdorp, the 54-year-old man, identified as only Mario, waited for the animals to approach.

In an image now breaking the Internet’s heart, one giraffe appears to understand the moment, kissing Mario.

Via Huffington Post. 

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This is a photo from Zanjeer the Dog’s funeral.  Zanjeer saved thousands of lives during Mumbai serial blasts in March 1993 by detecting more than 3,329 kgs of the explosive RDX, 600 detonators, 249 hand grenades and 6406 rounds of live ammunition. He was buried with full honours during a ceremony attended by all

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If this photo doesn’t make you feel, you’re a psychopath.
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11 Death Fails and Wins in the Newspaper

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80 Death Facts: The Ultimate List

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