The Lens:
Have you ever written an obituary? That was the subject of a recent piece in the SF Chronicle by an opinion columnist. Without having an abundance of time, I am generally pretty selective about the opinion pieces I read. I’d rather read the (somewhat) objective news.
I saw the obituary piece and skipped over it. Then, my husband pointed it out. We had a very brief discussion about obits, ending with my husband saying one of his friends has written his own obit.
With that, I went back to read the piece.
The writer was tasked with writing an obit for their uncle and recounts the struggle with what to put in the obit – namely what accomplishments could be noted. Upon reflection, the writer comes around to value the “minutiae of a person’s life,” eventually referring to the minutiae as “the boring stuff.”
The writer states, “It’s the obituary that gets the true last word.” If that is true, how do you get it right?
The writer indicates it usually only takes a “small fee” to place an obituary. I take exception to that because I didn’t find it particularly inexpensive to place my mom’s obit and it was pretty small.
According to Merriam-Webster, an obituary is “a notice of a person’s death usually with a short biographical account.” My mom was 85 years old. How do you sum up 85 years of living in a short biographical account?
It would be easier if you are willing (and able) to spend $1,000 or more on an obit. And, a lot of people do. For my sisters and me, that seemed a bit exorbitant. Mom was a most practical person. I’m not sure she would have wanted us to spend that kind of money on what is supposed to be a notice to acknowledge someone has died.
I think what we should strive for in an obit is capturing the essence of a person. There is nothing wrong with including accomplishments. But, if funds are tight, essence should take priority over accomplishments. Often, the essence comes in what the opinion writer calls “the boring stuff.”
Let’s say we are trying to capture the essence of a Nobel Prize winner in an obit. The opinion writer compares the importance of winning a Nobel Prize to that of the minutiae intimating they are both equally important. I disagree. Going back to the idea that “it’s the obituary that gets the true last word,” if you are doing genealogical research, it would be far easier to find the very interesting yet cold fact of winning a Nobel Prize. But, that fact hardly captures the essence of the person. That is where the obituary comes in.
I would bet if you asked someone who has won a Nobel Prize what they would like to be remembered for – the prize or what they did to win the prize – they would rather be remembered for their work. Afterall, isn’t that the essence of who we are – what we do not the awards we receive?
The Refraction:
As I said, my mom’s obituary was fairly short. She had four daughters and sons-in-law, and eight grandchildren which took up a considerable amount of print space. There wasn’t a lot of room for extra copy so we went with what mattered most to mom as well as what would capture her as a person.
We ended up with 134 words/629 characters. Going back and reading what we published, all things considered – grief, shock at losing our mother – I think we did a pretty good job. It can take a bit of editing, but you can often say a lot in a few words.
For example, Mom’s service in the Navy was important to her. Rather than directly saying that in her obit, we noted, as a Navy veteran, she would be interred at the Presidio.
It was the program for her memorial mass where we put in more details of her life. Still, it was difficult to sum up all Mom had done in a mere ½ page of a program – her service in the Navy, graduating from Cal, being a mother, starting a career mid-life and more.
At the time, I remember reading our final copy of her program. I was struck by Mom’s life. It wasn’t awards she had won but the living she had done. It made me reflect on what I had accomplished in my own life and I felt I came up short. If I wanted to come close to matching Mom, I needed get a move on.
I also said earlier that a friend of my husband had written his obituary, something he did a while back. It made me think what my own obituary might look like.
So, I created a to-do for me – write my own obituary as well as my biography for the program for my service. But this wouldn’t be about taking control of what is said about me. (I know – there are a lot of assumptions here, e.g., that my family runs an obit, puts together a program for my service or even has a service at all. But, I digress.) Instead, it is about reflecting on my life.
Mom passed away more the 15 years ago. How am I stacking up to Mom now? More importantly, though, is how am I stacking up, period. Life isn’t a competition. Mom and I are different people who led very different lives.
I am no kid and feel time is no longer my friend. And, of course, you never know when your number will be called. So, if I died tomorrow, would I be ok with how I spent my time on earth? If not, what would I need to do so I would be satisfied with my life when it is over?
Maybe there is no answer to that question. Maybe we should never be satisfied with our lives. Maybe we should always ask ourselves, what is one more thing I can do? That “one more thing” should be a lifelong effort, a constant journey that doesn’t end until we hit the end.