Dying Well

5 Tips for Creating a Personal Sendoff

Today’s guest post is from Elizabeth Meyer.  Elizabeth is an expert in planning personalized funeral services, and hopes to make funeral planning a less taboo, more approachable subject. After planning a unique funeral for her own father in 2006, she joined Frank E. Campbell funeral home in New York City as Family Services Liaison, where she served Campbell’s and Riverside Memorial Chapel helping families create exceptional services. She earned an MBA from Cass Business School in London and a BA from New York University. She is currently the Funeral Guru at Everplans.com

All the highlighted words in the following article are live links that allow you to further explore each topic at Everplans’ website.

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When I tell people that I work in the funeral industry, most become speechless. Looking at me questioningly, they’ll mange to ask, “But…why?” I tell them about the funeral I planned for my father 6 years ago. It was the most emotionally challenging thing I’ve ever done, but it was also the most rewarding. I understand the power that a meaningful funeral or memorial service has in the emotional processing, grieving, and healing after a death. And so I use what I learned from my own experience to guide and empower others to create meaningful sendoffs for their loved ones. I deeply understand the power that a meaningful funeral or memorial service has in the emotional processing, grieving, and healing after a death.  I hope that by helping people create personalized services I am alleviating some pain for these families.

Obviously, I can’t tell you what specifically will be meaningful to you or loved ones. I can, however, share the lessons I learned from planning my dad’s funeral and the dozens of special funeral and memorial services I’ve helped other families plan. So without further ado, here are my top 5 things to consider when creating a personalized sendoff:

1. Religion

Religion is an important factor in funeral plans, and religious rites and traditions can dictate everything from whether the body should be buried or cremated, to where and when the service should be held, to what foods should be eaten afterward. If you’ll be following any religious rituals, get a sense of the traditions before you make any solid plans; the specific rituals you’ll follow may override any other desires you might have.

For example, you might want an ornate casket for your loved one and a lot of flowers at the service. But if you’ll be following Jewish customs, you’ll want to purchase a plain pine casket and forgo flowers, which are not traditional. Or, if you’ll be following Catholic customs, you’ll want to have people deliver eulogies and other speeches at a wake before the funeral service, since the service will be a Mass.

My father was raised Jewish, but was much more frequently found in church with my Catholic mother than in synagogue. While this meant that we were not constrained byto any religious norms at his funeral, it also meant that we were left custom-less, working with a blank canvas. If you’re like us, then the next four issues can be really important, since you’ll basically be traveling without a map.

2. Venue: 

When my father died, hundreds of friends wanted to support us; we needed a venue that could accommodate everyone. It was most practical to hold the funeral in the large non-denominational chapel at the funeral home. But we had other options, too: we could have held the funeral in a large church or synagogue, at an event space, or even a restaurant if we’d wanted.

Some funerals are quite large and others are very intimate; finding a venue that can cater to the number of guests is what matters most. (Remember: a funeral isn’t a popularity contest.) If you have a large number of guests, you’ll want to be able to fit everyone in the space. On the other hand, if there will be only a handful of guests, you’ll want to choose a smaller venue and create an intimate environment where everyone is comfortable.

So whether you choose a funeral home chapel, a church, mosque, or even your own living room, consider the number of people who will be in attendance, and think about where you’d be most comfortable remembering your loved one.

3. Music

When my father died in the prime of his life, my family and I were beyond distraught. But I didn’t want my dad’s funeral to be overwhelmingly morbid. Rather than concentrate on my family’s loss, I focused on making the event a celebration of my father’s incredible life. And one of the ways I made sure the funeral was a celebration was through music.

We had jazz playing as the guests entered. I chose songs that dad always played at home, and I was comforted listening to Miles Davis and feeling like he was there. At the end of the service, guests were caught off guard when Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” come blasting out of the speakers. By the time the Rolling Stones came on, everyone was dancing in the aisles as they wiped the tears from their eyes. Dad would have loved this!

Having a pianist or organ would not have been appropriate for my dad; he just wasn’t that kind of guy. But that doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be perfect for your loved one. To figure out the right music for your situation, ask yourself: What were his or her favorite songs? What songs do you associate with him or her? What songs do you think he or she would like people to hear as they say goodbye? By choosing meaningful music you’ll feel like you are giving them a fitting sendoff—and it’s likely that the songs will elicit warm memories, too.

4. Speeches, Eulogies, and Readings

At my dad’s funeral, I selected speakers who knew my dad from different walks of life. My brother and I were the first speakers, and we shared our heartfelt and entertaining memories of our father. Dad’s cousin spoke about growing up with my dad; his, business partner spoke about what an amazing attorney and colleague my dad was; and a couple of friends also spoke about who he was as a man and a friend. By having all the speakers from different times and areas of his life, they were able to jointly create the most beautiful and complete image of my dad.

If possible, I would try to replicate have people deliver that same variety of speeches on a variety of topics.  In addition, No matter how entertaining the deceased was, repetitive stories are never fun! Also, it can be nice to consider incorporating readings into the service.  These can range from religious passages, hymns, and to poems from either the reader or the deceased favorite poets.

5. Flowers

I knew when I planned my dad’s funeral that flower choice was crucial. My dad was not particularly passionate about flowers—but flowers are so important to my mother, and I knew that she would be consoled by seeing flowers ones flowers that reminded her of dad.  So I opted for peonies, the flowers he always brought home to my mom.

Moreover, I opted to cover dad’s casket in a blanket of flowers. I knew it would be too difficult for my mom to walk in and see a casket at the front of the room; this way she was distracted and only saw her favorite flowers.

Flowers can remind us of the person we loved or distract us from our pain. Flowers can be in the colors of the person’s favorite sports team or in the shape of a heart, a cross, or even a golf club. They help set the mood, and they help make a funeral feel like a celebration.

These are my broad guidelines for creating a meaningful funeral. But please, get creative! Have a memorial service on a golf course or in a restaurant. Send ashes into outter space or out to sea. The only solid advice I can give is to honor the person who died with a fitting sendoff. I know it made me feel good about the final gift I gave my dad.

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Scientist Confirms “Old People Smell”

We’ve all smelled it.  And like flatulence in church, nobody says anything.

It’s that odd perfume that comes from Great Grandma Eunice when you reach down to give her a hug.

It’s that odor that wafts through nursing homes.

And now science is here to prove to us what we’ve already known.

Old people have an odd odor that is all their own.

And no, it’s not moth balls; it’s not an old person perfume; it’s not the fact that their skin hasn’t touched bath water in a couple days; nor is it the decade old clothes that have re-worn for consecutive days (I pull that trick in the winter when I don’t sweat).

In fact, notes Johan Lundström, Ph.D., the lead author of the study, the smell of older people is a universal smell that can be identified from Asia to Alaska.

There’s even a word for this smell in Japan: kareishū.

Here’s the explanation for “the smell” from Dr. Lundström:

The root cause of the old person smell is still a mystery, but the study notes that long-term changes to the skin glands may be involved. Lundström suspects it also may be related to an accelerated rate of cell decay. “As cells die at a faster pace, they might give off a different odor that is unique to people with old age,” he says. (from CNN.com)

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As a funeral director, I know the small all too well as I frequent nursing homes more often that some of the occupant’s family.  It’s a smell that has always elicited sadness in me.  Sadness for those who sit in waiting, often unvisited by outsiders.

I’ve read before that babies have a certain smell that neurologically encourages attachment in adults.  We can actually love our infants more just by smelling them.

So, what does the “old people smell” encourage?  For me, it’s encouraged a sense of the holy … a sense of both respect and a degree of otherness.  An otherness that’s been created by a recognition of life and death.  An otherness that we can learn from.

Next time you smell the “old people smell”, maybe we should just sit and listen (not necessarily to their words) to the holy that’s apart of the end stage of life.

Ten Reasons We Are NOT Vulnerable with Each Other

When we experience the death of a love one, it asks us to be willing to reach out to others, express ourselves and work through our grief with another.  Yet, few of us are willing to be vulnerable, to the detriment of our grief work … to the detriment of our relationships … to the detriment of our humanity.  The axiom is this: grief shared is grief diminished; grief repressed is grief magnified.

 

Here’s 10 reasons why we aren’t vulnerable:

One.  Vulnerable = needy.  Nobody wants to be seen as needy.  The image of a sniveling child, begging the help of their parent is so infantile.  We’ve grown out of that.  We’re adults.  We stand on our own.

But, vulnerability isn’t the same as neediness.  Vulnerability is a sign, not of dependence, but of a strength that bespeaks of our ability to be so confident in who we are that we’re willing to allow others to help define us.

Two.  Vulnerability means giving control to someone else.  Vulnerability is a giving of ourselves to someone else and allowing the response of the other to actually affect, change and/or hurt us.  If you’ve been hurt, if you’ve been abused and mistreated, vulnerability is next to impossible.  But, oddly, it’s when we’ve regained control and allowed ourselves to be vulnerable again that we know we’re beginning to move past our abuse.

Three.  This piggybacks off of number two.  Vulnerability means trusting that someone else will take that control and treat it gently and with respect.  By giving someone else control over you in your vulnerable state, you’re committing an act of trust.  We should choose wisely who we are vulnerable with.  Only those we trust.

Four.  Fear of being gossiped about.  “Did you see that post Caleb wrote on his blog last week?  He talked about suicide, leaving God and his wife.  He’s sooo … just sooo effed-up.”  And while we all appreciate concern, when we’re vulnerable and others see it, they will talk.  So be it.

Five.  Vulnerability can create misinterpretation.  It’s one thing to be talked about, it’s an entirely different thing to be misinterpreted.  Others will see it as weakness.  Other’s will see it as being needy.  Other’s will see this small chapter in your life and use that chapter to define your story.  “He’s so weak.  He’s messed up.”  Vulnerability isn’t weakness.  When done well, vulnerability is STRENGTH.

You can survive the gossip and misinterpretation because your story will shine brighter when this chapter is included.

Six:  Vulnerability is ungodlike.  At least that’s what we’re told.  In our pursuit to be like gods (and like God), we assume that we have to always be in control, always in control of our emotions; we might find that we’re trying to be like a god that doesn’t exist.  It would seem that God is weak, that God shows emotions … that God bleeds.

Seven.  Vulnerability doesn’t equal masculinity.   Who defines masculinity anyways?  I get it, in traditional cultures, men were the ones who were supposed to be strong, impervious to their emotions so they could fight through the difficulties of finding a way to provide for the family.

But, if you’re reading this, you don’t live in a traditional culture.  So be strong, learn to communicate your emotions and be weak.

Eight.  We associate vulnerability with an uncontrolled emotional state.  Wrong.  Vulnerability is intelligently expressing your troubles, concerns and pains.  Emotions come with vulnerability; but vulnerability isn’t simply emotions.

Nine.  Vulnerability often involves a move away from our pride and an admission that we are indeed in need of help.  Pride.  Keeps us from doing things we’re not good at.  This is where statements such as, “You can’t see me like this” come from.  Why can’t we see you like this?  Because seeing you like this might make us think that you’re human?

Ten.  I’m just not good at vulnerability.  Most of us aren’t.  We’ve been taught that it’s ungodlike, uncontrolled, too emotional, too needy, too trusting, too out of control, subject to misinterpretation and so on and so forth.   So, you don’t do it.  You aren’t vulnerable.

“If you’re lost and alone, if you’re sinking like a stone”, find someone you trust and commit an act of strength; an act that will help you grow; an act that will help your story move onward; an act that will increase your self-confidence.

For many of us, the ONLY time we will find the strength to be vulnerable is when we are dying; change up your story and be vulnerable in both life and death.

Welcome.  Welcome to the state of vulnerability.  Welcome to the state of humanity.

I Am the Creator of the Good

As the news flashed across the screen, “230 Dead in Club Fire” I sat remembering five years ago when I unzipped two small body bags.  I remembered the smell.  The smell that lacks a comparison; a smell that sticks to your clothes; a smell so permeating that your piss smells like it for days after.

Enclosed in each body bag was the small body of a burnt child.  I was unzipping the bag to see if they were viewable.  Charred.  Blackened.  Bald faces.  “No”, I thought to myself, “there will be no public viewing.”

And my face, my face looks down as I let things outside of my control paralyze me from the inside. Motionless, I sit as I remember that mother as she screamed out her grief in the funeral home.

When we think about the inevitable, how do we lift our heads?  How do we not just close our eyes and ask for the mercy of eternal sleep?

You will die.

I will die.

Maybe painful.   Maybe today, robbing me of watching my son grow.  Or maybe I die old, the last of my family, alone.  Or, maybe I will see my son die, unable to stop an inevitability that is stronger than I.

And yet, I’m reminded, as I sit paralyzed that although from dirt I was made, I am no longer.

“Stand up, child of God, so I can speak to you.  Stand up.  You were made in my image, you will create.  You will create what is good.  Stand up, so I can speak to you.”

So I stand.  I will not be paralyzed by what I cannot change, I will learn to smile.  I will be vulnerable.  I will stop and look at the stars, the flowers, the beauty of the snow, the fading transience of a passing sunset.  I will always have time to talk to you, to stop and help you and to be your friend.  Each day will be my masterpiece; each day, as I lay down my head to rest, I will see that it was good.

I will be the creator of the good.  I will be like God.  I will speak it into existence.

Living Life Like We’re Dying

The following is some of the key text from a TEDx lecture called “Rethinking the Bucket List”.  It’s presented by Kathleen Taylor who is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor, who directs the community engagement function of a large nonprofit hospice program:

People always ask me, “How could you enjoy your job … how could you like watching people die all day long?”  And I had the hardest time explaining that people at the end of their lives are incapable of bull shit.

When a person’s relationship with their body, with activity and doing changes, and when they’re facing the task of wrapping up the end of their life, a lot of the normal, worldly, daily distractions that tend to tempt us away from being honest with ourselves fall off the map.  And those distractions are different for everybody, there are things like being right, being important, being busy, being guilty, being self-conscious … that kinda stuff.  So good, bad or indifferent, at the end of their lives, many people become these … distilled … crystallized … pure versions of who they are. 

Out of this sense of authentic self, people get incredibly courageous, and open and intimate and honest.  They will talk about things they’ve never expressed before.  They will reconsider things that they’ve been certain about their entire lives.  They do brave stuff like change their mind.  And apologize.  And forgive.  They express love where it needs to be expressed and they manage to find joy in the smallest moments. 

As their body’s slow down, their perspective seems shift and their presence actually seems to expand.  The New York Times actually did a feature on a guy a former attorney who was diagnosed with ALS.  It quoted him as saying, “As I diminished, I grew.  As I lost so much, I finally started to find myself.”

I saw this theme of finding oneself over and over and over.  Not with everybody, but with most people and much more often than I would have thought.  The more I got to spend with people who were in their last chapter, the more I learned about the incredible transformative power of this kind of authenticity and what it could offer us and how it was possible.

Here’s the video in it’s entirety and it’s well worth your time:

 

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