In Memorium

In a funny synchronistic way, the topic of funerals and memorial services passed through my mind the last several days, and then the Sunday New York Times featured an interview with a hospice nurse. All of this reminded me of a suggestion I once had for my own memorial service.

Before I get to that, however, I also wanted to mention what my late wife’s aunt wanted for hers. She thought it would be funny to install a sensor in the kneeler in front of the casket. When people would kneel down to pay their last respects, a recording would play, saying, “Oh, now you come to visit me.” Ironically, I found the need for that at my late wife’s memorial service when a friend, who had know my wife since they were four and who had not visited her since my wife’s BTK amputation, suddenly showed up, too late to actually speak with her. (The lesson here is: talk to people when they’re alive, because you never know when that might change.)

The NYTimes article mentions the living funeral, where everyone gathers to share their memories of the dying person. I’d like to have a memorial service as a grand celebration, though I don’t feel the need to be there. As I mentioned (revealed? confessed?) in another recent post, there may be revelations about me that might take some people by surprise. I think I’d rather not be embarrassed by such stories, true as they may be.

A few years ago, joking about my memorial service, I suggested a certain touch that I found amusing. First, I want to be cremated, so there’d be no need to take up ground space and waste money on a location no one is going to visit anyway. For the service, I said I wanted a rental casket filled with ice. The cremation urn would be in the center, and the ice would be full of easy-peel shrimp. As people came to fill up their plates, they could also reminisce about me. And there’d be all-you-can-eat shrimp!

I have not added this into any preparatory documents; it was a joke I won‘t be following through on. But the image is pretty striking, is it not?

Speaking of living funerals, the retirement party arranged by my former student Elaine and colleague Karen fulfilled my need for such an event. The outpouring of gratitude and compliments served as an amazing experience, memorializing my career, at least at my last position. I realized at that moment that, despite my books, recordings, and videos that I hope continue past my demise, my real legacy is my students.