Miscellaneous
Gay Rights in Death: Finding Common Plots?
When you die, who is entitled to make your funeral and burial decisions?
Have you created a will?
Have you assigned an executor of your will?
Have you designated a beneficiary of your estate?
If you haven’t, that’s (sorta) okay because — by default — there is a legal (with emphasis on legal) next-of-kin (NOK). [1]
For married couples, one’s spouse is the legal NOK upon death, unless an Executor has been designated.
We saw this “legal NOK” play out on a public level with the death of Mary Kennedy. Even though Mary’s husband Robert was estranged, had filed for divorce and was living with his girlfriend, his legal status as “husband” confirmed him as the decision maker for Mary’s disposition, funeral and estate.
Mary’s family, recognizing the fact that Robert was possibly the least qualified to respect Mary’s wishes, sued for said rights of disposition. They lost. Sure, they had more affection for Mary. Sure, they had loved Mary better than Robert. Sure, Robert was probably the main influence in Mary’s suicide.
Unfortunately, though, the people who loved Mary the best in life were unable to do so in death. While the the legal process of designating a NOK in the absence of an Executor works most of the time, in Mary’s case it didn’t.
And this brings us to gay rights in death.
The latest statistics I’ve read show that half of Americas support gay marriage while the other half do not. It’s a divisive and complex discussion that touches anthropology, sociology, psychology, politics, genetics, gender and sexuality, philosophy and theology. I know this is a contentious conversation and I usually don’t touch bruised topics unless they involve Mark Driscoll.
But, being that few have looked at gay rights from the perspective of thanatology (the study of death and dying), I thought I’d give it a stab. From a thanatological perspective, this issue seems to be less determined by whether or not one agrees with gay marriage or civil unions and more to do with who can best honor the deceased in death.
In the Kennedy case, Mary could have legally designated an Executor of her estate before she died. This would have taken away Robert’s default NOK rights and placed them to the designated Executor. The problem was this: she didn’t designate an Executor.
While I’m sure committed gay couples — recognizing that many states don’t affirm their unions — will often set up their partner as an Executor, the case of Mary Kennedy shows that not everyone has a binding will that designates their Executor … even when they SHOULD have a binding will.
I’m sure there’s cases that exist right now where a gay couple has been together for a couple decades and haven’t set up a will or designated their partner as the executor. And, I’m sure, like the Kennedy case, the legal NOK (the parents or possibly children), may attempt to ostracize those that really loved the deceased the best.
And yes, Robert ostracized Mary’s family from having any part in the service.
What happens when a gay committed couple hasn’t designated their partner as the executor?
What happens when the parents so disapprove of the gay relationship that — like Robert did with Mary’s family — the legal NOK ostracizes the partner who had been with the deceased for decades?
When does the Christian church’s hunger for being Biblical and right become cruelty?
Should the church support denying somebody the ability to properly grieve?
You may be personally opposed to the state granting gay couples the right to marry (and I do realize that the issue at hand is much larger than simply whether or not the state should affirm gay marriage), but it seems that denying a couple the ability to care and take care of their partner in death creates the kind of drama and difficulty that was recently on display in the death of Mary Kennedy.
[1] If an Executor has not been designated, by default your spouse is granted those rights. If your spouse isn’t alive or you aren’t married, it becomes your oldest child who is over the age of 18. If you don’t have a child over the age of 18 — or you don’t have children — it’s your parents. If your parents are dead, the NOK becomes your eldest sibling. If you don’t have siblings, parents, a spouse, or child, you should DEFINITELY consider designating an executor or you may find your inheritance being awarded to the state, or some distant cousin you’ve never met.
Being a Woman in the Death Care Industry
Amanda Boling
Growing up in a small rural area of Arkansas it never occurred to me that I couldn’t do anything just because I was a girl. The thought of working in the death care industry had crossed my mind a few times throughout high school but as a teenager I was more concerned with fitting in so I took the route of going to cosmetology school instead. After a few years of working in a salon I became bored and decided to move on to a new field, start a family, and was eventually laid off, which helped me make the decision to go back to school … funeral school.
The night before school started panic hit me. I thought “what if I’m the only woman in class?”
I was relieved to find that I was not the only girl but in fact that at least half of the students were female. I was surprised to learn that 57 percent of U.S. mortuary school graduates are women. The industry is definitely changing but it still shocks so many people to find out what my major is. The reactions I’ve received have ranged from nervous laughter to silence. I’ve even had a person that bluntly said “I didn’t realize women did that.”
I’m never offended by these reactions but I know that people look at me differently. I honestly don’t care if people think I’m odd. I believe the death care industry is extremely important to society and so often people chose to ignore that because we as a society do not like to think about death.
After a few months of classes I started an apprenticeship with a local family owned funeral home and I knew right away that I wouldn’t be able to blend in as I had in the past with previous jobs. Most of the funeral homes in the area are family owned and consist of men fifty years and older.
When I was hired, I learned that there was no such thing as a dress code for women so we had to come to an agreement on what would be appropriate for death calls, visitations, and funerals. Another obstacle that I faced was the fact that all the men wore matching ties and suits on certain days of the week.
The owner offered to buy me a few reasonably priced suits if I could find something that closely matched theirs to “fit in.” I thanked him for the offer but thought to myself “A twenty six year old female is going to attract attention no matter what hanging around a funeral home.” Despite the age and gender difference I’ve still managed to jump right in with the guys and do what needs to be done.
The biggest problem I believe I have faced so far is the fact that men underestimate me being a woman. Because there is a fair amount of lifting involved in this line of work the men call upon each other for assistance completely overlooking me.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe they ignore me to be rude but rather out of respect so I find myself constantly reminding them “I’m not as delicate and fragile as you think.” I do realize that I’m not always capable of doing everything alone but I’ve never let that stop me from pursuing my career.
Besides the obvious fact that hair dressing and makeup are not a challenge for me, being a woman in the industry is always a nice way to start a conversation when you find yourself working a funeral or visitation. I find it interesting how people are curious and seek me out to strike up conversations.
I love meeting new people especially the older generations. They always seem to be very eager to talk to me (especially the men) and find out why I do what I do. I tell them I enjoy my job because it’s not your ordinary 8-5 grind and you provide a service to families in need at the same time.
I never really thought much about it but I suppose a woman can be more approachable than a man when you are distressed and in need of comfort. It never ceases to amaze me when complete strangers open up to me and tell me how important a simple smile was to them as they passed me during the service.
When you think of important qualities that a funeral director should possess it would most certainly include being approachable, comforting, compassionate, and friendly so I think that we may have the upper hand in the so called boys club when it comes to that aspect. I’m certainly not saying that men aren’t capable of this but I think most men would agree that it may come more naturally for a woman. While I understand that this may not be the easiest profession for me to join I love the challenge and hope that other women will follow.
*****
I’m a 26 year old single mom from Brookland, Arkansas. I expect to have my funeral degree by May 2013. When I’m not chasing a toddler I enjoy all things girly. I have a slight obsession with fingernail polish, and I enjoy spending time with my boyfriend who is also a funeral director.
Death is Coming
“On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.” ~ Fight Club
As human beings, there is one certainty in this life: it will end. Some lives sooner than others, some more quickly and painlessly than others, some with more tragedy or dignity than others. But, regardless of the details, everyone who ever lives will die. FACT.
Yet, what is the single thing people are most afraid of? I’ll give you a hint: it’s not heights, not public speaking, not flying, and not spiders or snakes. Give up? It’s death. Death scares us more than anything. What does it say about people when our number one fear is something as unavoidable and universally experienced as death? How does our fear of death affect our way of life?
Typically, we try to defend ourselves from the things we fear. For instance, a person can avoid heights, public speaking, spiders, and snakes. A person can even try to avoid certain means of dying. I, for example, could not imagine a worse fate than death by drowning – simply because I cannot bear the thought of being consciously aware of dying. Therefore, I do not push beyond my comfort zone when swimming or visiting the beach. In other cases, people have been known to avoid possible deadly situations by refusing to fly, refusing to smoke cigarettes, or in extreme cases, refusing to even step outside ones front door. Still, for as much control as you may try to have over how you die, no matter what you do, you cannot prevent death itself from occurring. Death comes for us all in due time.
Still, advances in medicine and lifestyle choices attempt to hold off death for as long as possible. We cling to life for every last breath (and dollar). So, what are we worried about, that we will go to such lengths to prevent death?
“Death is a worry of the living. The dead only worry about decay and necrophiliacs.” ~ Dogma
I think we are scared, because we are confused. If we believe the gospel and trust God’s word, then we know that Jesus died in order that we might live. And, we proclaim that at the Resurrection, Jesus defeated sin and death. Those truths confuse us. Why? Because we feel like it should say, ‘Jesus died and defeated death so that we wouldn’t have to.’ That would be GREAT news! Wouldn’t it? But, it doesn’t say that. Jesus death and resurrection does nothing to change the FACT that we will still die like every other person who’s ever walked this earth and every person who ever will.
So, what does Jesus change?
Jesus relieves us of the need to fear death. He gives us the hope and confidence to live in the face of impending, unavoidable, unpredictable death. He promises us that death is not the end of life. He promises us that death is not a journey we make alone. In Him, death is no longer that scary. Not being ruled by a fear of death, we are free to truly live. This is what is meant when Jesus and Paul talk about “abundant life.” They are referring to life when it is lived fully free from fear. Death is a reality, but it is not a reality that we must fear. Rather, it is a reality that must inspire us to live.
“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we’ll die.” ~ Dave Matthews Band
Read through the book of Ecclesiastes sometime. Sure, initially it seems like a real downer. But, what it really is is a reality check. It’s reminding us that we should enjoy this gift we have called life, because death comes to us sooner or later. So, don’t spend your precious time working to stave off death. Spend your time relishing in God’s good Creation, embracing those whom God has brought into your life, and celebrating the good gifts God has given you. Be adventurous; take risks. What’s the worst that could happen?
Oh, yeah…death.
It is those who have not yet lived, who cannot bear the thought of dying. But, joyful are those who die in the midst of truly living.
P.S. While the preceding is written as an address to individuals, let it be understood that what is true for individuals also tends to be true for groups of individuals. Therefore, the suggestions I raise to “people” to resist being rule by a fear of death and instead embrace life, I also raise to churches, which are so often lulled into preservation-mode themselves, rendering their ministry “lifeless.”
*****
Here is Matt’s bio: I strive to be an innovative pastor in love with Christ, the Church, and the richness of Christian tradition, but committed to challenging the Church to vocalize their faith and tradition in languages understood by a new generation of people. Follow me on twitter (@RevGork) or by subscribing to my blog: http://ramblingrev-mgorkos.blogspot.com/.
Eulogy for Tom
Jay Cincotta
When Jay Cincotta was a young boy, his Uncle Anthony hung himself — but it was never spoken of. Suicide had a stigma in his Italian family and it was years before Jay even learned how his uncle died. Decades later, Jay’s younger brother, Tom, hung himself. In shock and grief, Jay reflected upon how he’d approach this sensitive topic with his own children, his cousins, his brother’s children and the rest of their friends and family in his eulogy for Tom.
This is the eulogy he delivered at his brother’s funeral:
*****
Thank you all for being here today joining my family in celebrating the life of my little brother.
If it wasn’t for Tom, I wouldn’t be here today. You see even as a young boy, Tom was a passionate entrepreneur. Tom was building a candy empire, and in his effort to protect his inventory, he actually saved my life.
We used to have a spare refrigerator in our garage in New York, and being an imaginative eight year old boy with lots of curiosity and no apparent common sense, I locked myself inside it to see if I could get out.
I couldn’t.
I learned that the light turns off when you close the door. And you can’t get to the latch from the inside. It was pitch black, cramped, airtight and nearly soundproof. As I kicked and screamed, the air got hot and thin. Sweating, panting and crying, I realized I would die and wondered how long it might be before anyone found my body.
Suddenly, there was a burst of white light. I thought maybe it was heaven. I thought an angel had come for me as I fell to the floor gasping for breath and I heard a voice. But it wasn’t the voice of an angel. It was the voice of my brother, Tom, and the voice said, “Jay, were you eating my candy?”
Tom was always clever and inventive, particularly in the pursuit of hoarding and selling of candy. In middle school he once rigged up an oversized jacket with all these inside pockets where he could hide candy and open it wide in front of potential customers, like a guy with a coat full of cheap watches.
Tom was a great athlete. He could have been a pro bowler. I think he even bowled a perfect game of 300 one time. He ran track. He loved lacrosse and played varsity in high school.
When we shared a dorm room at the University of Maryland in College Park, Tom and some of the other jocks would play lacrosse in the long hall using toilet paper rolls instead of balls to bean unsuspecting nerds enroute to their dorm rooms. Like me.
And once, while recovering from a knee injury, he raced me across the quad. Even on crutches he could still outrun me.
As we got older, we both got married, we both had two kids, we both had good jobs, and for awhile it seemed that everything was going his way.
But then it didn’t. Tom became confused. He made mistakes. His life took a darker turn. My love for him never wavered, but our relationship became terribly strained and for years we hardly saw one another.
But recently there was hope. Tom reached out to me, my brother, Doug, and our parents expressing regret and remorse. As a family reunited, we began planning a new beginning. Two weeks ago today, Tom, Doug and I spent a sunny spring day together after years apart.
Tom confessed to me that he realized his mistakes and that he was sorry for them and I truly believe he was sincere. I cried and told him how happy I was to have my brother back. Tom found the Hagarstown Recovery Mission and submitted an application which was accepted. He was about to start a new life, on the road to full recovery and redemption.
When last I saw Tom alive he was living alone in a small house with boxes piled to the ceiling. But good things were starting to happen.
I had hope. I thought Tom had hope.
One day Tom opened a door just in time and saved my life. Last Saturday I opened the door to his house just a bit too late to save his. There was an old rope tied to the doorknob. And when I opened the door I understood why: Tom had hung himself.
I will spend the rest of my life wondering why.
I dialed 911 and the next few hours were a blur as paramedics, then police came and went and people asked me questions and made me fill out forms. Finally, as a dark unmarked van pulled away I found myself alone in Tom’s front yard.
It was only then that I first noticed that his place backed to a public park. It was another bright beautiful spring day with a parking lot full of SUVs and young boys in team colors were playing lacrosse right behind Tom’s house.
They were young and intense and having fun and at a point in their lives where Tom once stood, where all that mattered was the stick in your hands and the ball and the net and the game and all your life lays out before you with all its promise and ripe possibilities.
And there’s always the danger that life can go horribly wrong when you least expect it. And you find yourself in front of an abandoned house. And a lonely cat needing a new home rubs against your ankles. And you’re left wondering why. Why?
I’m talking to you today about me and Tom because it’s the story I’ve lived. But my story isn’t really about me. Or even Tom. It’s about all of us, the people we love, and the urgency of time.
As life whizzes by it’s so easy to miss the preciousness of the fleeting moments of our lives. To forget how important we are to each other and that we have to love one another and love one another well and with all our hearts and not when it’s too late, but long before it’s too late.
Now. When it matters. When love, friendship and heartfelt concern can make a difference.
20/20 Interview
Two weeks ago ABC’s 20/20 came out to Parkesburg and filmed me on site at the funeral home for about an hour and a half.
Somebody at the studio had been reading my blog and thought I’d fit into a segment called “True Confessions.”
As a condition to the interview, I asked the producer to be respectful toward my family’s business as I didn’t want our 160 year old reputation to be sullied in a two minute nationally televised TV show. They accepted my stipulation, so I agreed to the interview.
I only told a couple friends that 20/20 was interviewing me (actually, I don’t think I told anyone … my immediate family did most of the telling … and I told them not to tell too many people because I was afraid I’d look like a moron). It aired last Friday and I think one or two of you caught it and gave me a text/tweet/facebook shout out.
John Berman was the interviewer. He was a pleasant person. Harvard educated. A New England sports fan. Very relaxed and generous in person.
The producer was a tall, pensive, well-spoken man. At one point I say, “People sometimes buy (caskets) out of guilt.” That line was at the producer’s prompt. The association between guilt and an expensive funeral fancied him.
The camera and sound crew were all local guys who were independent contractors. Some were out of West Chester, others out of Philly. And I liked them all … the main cameraman was especially entertaining (did you know that professional cameras start at around $70,000?).
I had my suit dry cleaned, bought a new dress shirt and tie, created and purchased “Wilde Funeral Home” t-shirts for all the crew and had one sleepless night all for two minutes of national televised face time.
Even though they forgot to post my twitter handle on air, it was a good experience and so far (based off the responses I’ve received) the Parkesburg community seems to be proud of the fact that 20/20 came out to Parkesburg.
Here’s a couple behind the scenes shots.
Here’s the video.
