Ladies and Gentleman, This Guy Wins the Obit-ernet.

Same-Sex Marriage and Death

Same-Sex Marriage and Death


Article from: http://www.calebwilde.com

"Today’s guest post is written by Chad Harris. This from Chad: I’m a graduate student at Hood College in Maryland, where I am pursuing coursework in thanatology for eventual certification as a thanatologist and death educator. Upon graduating (hopefully in May!), It’s my hope to work with military families and veterans, a passion I first discovered while working within the Department of Veterans Affairs health-care system.

I also have a master’s degree in social work from Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio, and a bachelor’s degree in journalism from the University of Central Arkansas."

"What if you were told that your spouse cannot be buried next to you?

Or that you’ll have to pay a large tax bill upon your spouse’s death that your neighbors, who have been married a shorter time than you and your loved one were, won’t have to?

Though the tide has begun to turn, these are among the struggles that same-sex couples have had to face for years, and the hurdles which these couples have had to face serve as a reminder to all of us that with the inevitability of death, we have to strive to make our end-of-life wishes are known and that they can be fully carried out.

Imagine you get a call from your spouse’s sister that your loved one has taken a turn for the worse at the hospital, and the doctors expect them to die very soon. You rush to the hospital, but find that not only will the doctors not tell you what’s going on, but you are barred from entering the room where your partner of 25 years lay dying. For many, this heart-wrenching scenario was all too real until 2011, when the federal government issued a directive that all hospitals that receive federal aid must allow people to designate those who can visit or speak for them in the hospital. Sadly, as recently as this year, there have been cases where individuals have had those rights infringed upon by individual hospitals.





While the movement for same-sex marriage has gained ground on a state-by-state level, with 13 states, the District of Columbia, and several federally recognized Native American tribes all issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples, there were until recently many hurdles on the federal level – and the dust is far from settled in Washington. Add to this the states that have passed laws expressly forbidding same-sex marriage, and you’re potentially adding layer upon layer of struggle on top of the grief someone experiences at the death of someone who has stood by them for years.


Even as the United States Supreme Court ruled that the federal Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) – passed in 1996 and defining legal marriage as between one man and one woman – unconstitutional in June, the picture for same-sex couples became even murkier. Suddenly, depending on which part of the federal government you asked, you were either entitled to benefits or you weren’t. The same week that DOMA was ruled on by the Supreme Court, the Department of Defense began providing equal benefits to same-sex couples, including death benefits.


Among these was the right for same-sex spouses of those eligible to be buried in Arlington National Cemetery. However, the majority of the remaining national cemeteries in the United States are overseen by the Department of Veterans Affairs. It wasn’t until the beginning of September that the VA was directed to begin offering all the same benefits to same-sex couples that others had been entitled to for years, including the right to be buried in a national cemetery operated by the VA’s National Cemetery Administration. In fact, before that directive from the Department of Justice, same-sex couples had to apply for special waivers for burial – and only one had ever been granted. With such dissonance between two parts of the same government, there are no doubt still hurdles to climb and red tape to cut!


Also, in late August, the IRS announced that it would treat same-sex spouses married in states that recognize their marriages for tax purposes, even if the couple officially resided in a state that either does not recognize or officially bans same-sex marriages. These couples can now file jointly, and are entitled to all the same federal tax benefits other married couples are.


Though there have obviously been significant steps forward for same-sex couples in the last few months, the recency of these decisions may still lead to a great deal of confusion for many, and the pace and inconsistency of these changes highlights the fact that, regardless of legal marital status, it remains vitally important for everyone – especially same-sex couples — to discuss end-of-life issues with their loved ones. Do not simply assume that because you hold a marriage license and are extended certain benefits, you’ll be extended those benefits and courtesies across the board, regardless of where you are in the United States. Communication has long been cited as an important component of any long-lasting, loving relationship. Put those skills to use. Talk to each other about your wishes and write them down.


Avoiding talking about death and dying doesn’t postpone the inevitable, and especially in cases such as the ones mentioned above where the law has been rapidly evolving, it can make things even more difficult. You’ve been partners throughout life, supporting one another no matter the hurdles along the way. Don’t shrink from that teamwork now. Do all that you can to help prepare one another for all of life’s events – especially the ones at the end of it."

From the "Morbid Anatomy" Blog: Anthropomorphic Victorian Taxidermist Walter Potter...

Morbid Anatomy: Anthropomorphic Victorian Taxidermist Walter Potte...:


Mind you...this is *Victorian* Taxidermy. Likely not the preferred artwork for all...



For more information, go to http://www.walterpottertaxidermy.com

From the "Morbid Anatomy" Blog: The Ossuary at St. Leonard's Church, Hythe, Kent, England

Morbid Anatomy: The Ossuary at St. Leonard's Church, Hythe, Kent, ...:




All photos © Joanna Ebenstein; click on image to larger images; To see additional images, click here.

What is the All Souls Cottage Anyhow?

If you found out that you were dying today, what would you do?

If you were told you likely won't be here a year from now, what would you want? How would you prepare? What would you like your last impression to be, the last time your loved ones saw you?

We spend so much of our time as a society and a community preparing for each soul's birth into the world, but have fallen into a bubble, we are easily led, bullied almost, as to how one should take the leaving of each soul from here. How we should leave. How we should grieve. Consult the professionals. Look up the right etiquette. Why?

I am a psychiatric LPN, currently training to be a soul midwife, someone that helps the transition of a spirit out of life as much as a birth doula would help one come in. When you think on it, our mental processes and what we can handle in life is very similar as the processes we handle in death. We all have our thresholds. We all have our limits. We have a place where we wish we didn't have to make these choices anymore. This is where "others" come in. The ones happy to help you make those tough decisions. In dying, it is often medical professionals and our bewildered loved ones. In death, it is usually the funeral industry and the bereaved loved ones. The professional always coupled with the vulnerable. Listen to the words that they use to soften the blows, to gently coax you with soothing ideas.

But let's strip all that away, shall we? Just for a moment. Taking away other's opinions, how would you like to face your final moments in life? What would you like to have done for you to keep you comfortable, to keep all the good emotions and memories close? How would you like to be remembered when you die? What kind of ceremonies or memorials would you like to have? What of the legacy of your memory? And sure, what of the money? I sure wouldn't want my insurance money paying for my funeral. It's supposed to be for my family. Death is supposed to be about the family.

These are difficult things for many to think about. I will admit myself to being a thanaphobic. I am afraid of dying, and of the Unknown, about the What After. I am afraid of leaving my loved ones behind. I share these fears with many. As I go about my path, I keep this in mind. I strive to rejoice in people's individuality, their own paths. Making any transition their own.

There is the concept of "The Good Death" stretching back to the Victorians up until our perceptions changed with wars. Up to then, the goal was dying around family and friends, imparting sacred moments, having them take care of the dying and the ones who have died. Bathing, dressing, vigiling, remembering their "last words". Wearing mementos. Setting up a last portrait. This was all a part of the dying and grieving process back then. This is, what I believe we need more of now in a time where dying is a business. Death is an industry.

I am not trying to sell anything. I will not say what is or isn't a good way to die. I will not say you should suffer dying with grace and dignity. Such personal decisions these are. What I am doing is raising awareness, bringing forth information, hopefully inspiring confidence that someone can make choices that they feel comfortable with, and will not be forced into having the end of life they would have never wanted for themselves or their loved ones not for the sake of money, peer pressure, or politeness toward society. 

Someday, I hope to offer my services (as a service, not as a career or business) as a soul midwife, advocating for you to make your transitions the way you would like. To keep such important decisions yours. To help you navigate though the nebulous options.

This blog isn't so much about death, but really it's about life- making every moment count, especially the last ones. To be here and present. Making as many as people feel as welcomed and loved when they shed their skins as they did when they were given those very same skins. It will have some deep thinking, some controversy, some advice, and some humor- maybe a history lesson here and there.

And it may give you a place to face our fears together.

CNBC- "Death, It's a Living"

A documentary that debuted just a few months ago, a look at the funeral industry business.

Season 2, Episode 29 Death: It's a Living(43 min)

CNN & Funeral Consumer Group Tells All

From the Funeral Consumer Alliance:

CNN & Funeral Consumer Group Tells All

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o15rDQEJnkY

The Ideal Death Show

The ideal death show

Article in today’s Spectator by Clarissa Tan.

I am in a yurt, talking about death. Everyone is seated in a circle, and I am the next-to-last person to share. The last of the summer sun is shining through the entrance. At one end is a display coffin of biodegradable willow — there’s also tea and coffee, and coffin-shaped biscuits with skeleton-shaped icing.

‘I am a reporter,’ I say. ‘I’ve come to cover this event. But don’t worry, I won’t report what you share in this yurt. Also, I have cancer. I have been in treatment for one year, but now the treatment is over. I take one day at a time.’

There is silence, then hugs. I thought I would cry, but I don’t. Instead, I feel acceptance and a strange kernel of satisfaction. For the rest of my time here I am Death Girl, shrouded in drama.

The yurt is on the grounds of a beachfront hotel in Bournemouth. I am attending the Good Funeral Awards, meant to honour the best in the business. Running up to the awards dinner there are a series of activities such as the ‘death cafe’ I am participating in, where people mingle to mull mortality. Death cafes are now taking place all over the world, as Mark Mason has written in this magazine, but the weekend also will feature a number of speakers on subjects such as the use of LSD in the care of the terminally ill, memorial tattoos and what to wear for your final journey. An award will go to the embalmer of the year — a miniature coffin in the style of an Oscar.

I arrived expecting a weekend of black comedy. This is what I find, but there’s something else — a sincerity and straightforwardness that takes me by surprise. Many of the attendees are involved in the death business, as coffin makers and corpse tailors and funeral celebrants, because they feel our society does not pay enough attention to death. We avoid it, plaster over it, try to pretty it up and Botox it out of existence.

Even old age is taboo. As we all live longer and longer, so our actors and actresses, politicians and pop stars get younger every decade.

‘Why do we do this, when death is something that happens to all of us?’ lamented one woman.

Why, indeed? I’d done it too, until I discovered my illness. Then I thought of little else — about the fragility of life, the permanence of death. Friends sent me amulets, prayers, ginseng, ‘positive energy’. My heart opened, and something flooded in. What if death were not disconnection, but connection? What if we were just going to meet our Maker? Then death would not be severance, but reunion. It is not at all a fashionable point of view, but I believe in God — and a good one, at that. The belief fills me with healing, wonderful hope. It is the hope not that I will live. It is the hope that I am loved.

The awards dinner is actually a happy affair. The great and good of the funeral industry quaff champagne and exchange jokes. Opposite me at my table is a woman who runs a funeral company. She is flanked by her husband, who also manages the business, and her brother, who is up for gravedigger of the year. The actress Pam St Clement, whose EastEnders character Pat Butcher died on-screen in January last year, is here to present the prizes. Everyone claps and cheers. In the midst of death, we are in life.

It’s a fine line between the two. Looking at the people around me, women in evening dress and men in black tie, it strikes me that death can be a glamorous affair. I wonder if, working with funerals and the bereaved, one can also be too attached to the idea of death, taking refuge in it. That’s another thing I’ve realised, too. Twelve months of ill health, hospitals, medicines — while they were tough, they also gave me an identity. I am a journalist and death gave me a story.

I realise that although I am frightened of dying, there’s a also a tiny part of me that’s always been scared of living. The finality of death is hard. The uncertainties of life can be harder.

After the dinner, the winners and losers of the Good Funeral Awards get up to dance. I peek into the ballroom bespeckled with lights. What will they play? ‘Born to Die’? ‘Forever Young’? Perhaps ‘I Will Survive’? Or ‘Stayin’ Alive’? I decide I’ll take a cab back to my bed-and-breakfast and watch Michael McIntyre’s Comedy Roadshow on telly. Perhaps this is not the time for me to dance with death.

This Woman’s Obituary is the Best Thing You’ll Read Today

From: http://www.viralnova.com/womans-amazing-obituary/

September 12, 2013 Stories

When Mary A. “Pink” Mullaney passed away on September 1st, she left behind 6 children and 17 grandchildren. “Pink” was so adored by her family that they wrote the most amazing obituary for her. Read it, it’ll put a smile on your face:


If you’re about to throw away an old pair of pantyhose, stop. Consider: Mary Agnes Mullaney (you probably knew her as “Pink”) who entered eternal life on Sunday, September 1, 2013. Her spirit is carried on by her six children, 17 grandchildren, three surviving siblings in New “Joisey”, and an extended family of relations and friends from every walk of life. We were blessed to learn many valuable lessons from Pink during her 85 years, among them: Never throw away old pantyhose. Use the old ones to tie gutters, child-proof cabinets, tie toilet flappers, or hang Christmas ornaments.





Also: If a possum takes up residence in your shed, grab a barbecue brush to coax him out. If he doesn’t leave, brush him for twenty minutes and let him stay.


Let a dog (or two or three) share your bed. Say the rosary while you walk them.


Go to church with a chicken sandwich in your purse. Cry at the consecration, every time. Give the chicken sandwich to your homeless friend after mass.





Go to a nursing home and kiss everyone. When you learn someone’s name, share their patron saint’s story, and their feast day, so they can celebrate. Invite new friends to Thanksgiving dinner. If they are from another country and you have trouble understanding them, learn to “listen with an accent.”


Never say mean things about anybody; they are “poor souls to pray for.”


Put picky-eating children in the box at the bottom of the laundry chute, tell them they are hungry lions in a cage, and feed them veggies through the slats.


Correspond with the imprisoned and have lunch with the cognitively challenged.





Do the Jumble every morning.


Keep the car keys under the front seat so they don’t get lost.


Make the car dance by lightly tapping the brakes to the beat of songs on the radio.


Offer rides to people carrying a big load or caught in the rain or summer heat. Believe the hitchhiker you pick up who says he is a landscaper and his name is “Peat Moss.”


Help anyone struggling to get their kids into a car or shopping cart or across a parking lot.


Give to every charity that asks. Choose to believe the best about what they do with your money, no matter what your children say they discovered online.


Allow the homeless to keep warm in your car while you are at Mass.


Take magazines you’ve already read to your doctors’ office for others to enjoy. Do not tear off the mailing label, “Because if someone wants to contact me, that would be nice.”


In her lifetime, Pink made contact time after time. Those who’ve taken her lessons to heart will continue to ensure that a cold drink will be left for the overheated garbage collector and mail carrier, every baby will be kissed, every nursing home resident will be visited, the hungry will have a sandwich, the guest will have a warm bed and soft nightlight, and the encroaching possum will know the soothing sensation of a barbecue brush upon its back.


Above all, Pink wrote — to everyone, about everything. You may read this and recall a letter from her that touched your heart, tickled your funny bone, or maybe made you say “huh?”


She is survived by her children and grandchildren whose photos she would share with prospective friends in the checkout line: Tim (wife Janice, children Timmy, Joey, T.J., Miki and Danny); Kevin (wife Kathy, children Kacey, Ryan, Jordan and Kevin); Jerry (wife Gita, children Nisha and Cathan); MaryAnne; Peter (wife Maria Jose, children Rodrigo and Paulo); and Meg (husband David Vartanian, children Peter, Lily, Jerry and Blase); siblings Anne, Helen, and Robert; and many in-laws, nieces, nephews, friends and family too numerous to list but not forgotten.


Pink is reunited with her husband and favorite dance and political debate partner, Dr. Gerald L. Mullaney, and is predeceased by six siblings.

Why Do We Do It?

        Why do we do everything to make a loved one's entry into this world so wonderful, unique, and special- yet are content being talked into pre-boxed (so to speak), impersonal, McFuneral when a loved one leaves this world?

        Is it that it's too hard? Too nebulous? Too locked into doing what our moms and dads did for their loved ones? When does our impressions start about what dying and death means, and how we are supposed to handle it?

I was eight when my Aunt died, and this was my first 'death in the family'. I had no experience in such loss other than television or classmates with big families. Our family was small, contained.  We did not see death directly often, nor was it even talked about outside a whisper, perhaps as a Halloween costume. Even to ask if an elderly person was dying, or old enough to die was worthy of getting punished. Pets simply disappeared. I didn't even know what a funeral home was, let alone what happens in one, or what a viewing was supposed to be, until I went to Aunt D's.

The first thing I was told after my mother told me that my aunt was dead was not about what I understood of the sentence "Your aunt died last night.” Rather it was “We are still having Easter dinner at Grandma's. Don’t talk to your grandmother about anything. Don’t talk to your cousins [my aunt’s son and daughter]. Be quiet and stay out of the way of the adults". Yes, we did have Easter dinner, in uncomfortable silence, with just a hint of 'plans' being discussed among the adults...funeral plans- but just called 'plans'. What I found out later was from newspaper articles and my mother's jerk boyfriend at the time. My aunt had some drinks, drove home, never made it. My mother was the car behind her- she was the one my aunt was out having drinks with. She was following her home in that old 80's way of following someone home to make sure that they got there safely. She was the one who called the ambulance.  Just imagine the family dynamics under the surface. Imagine it still, always just under the surface.

Pictures of my Aunt were put away right after the funeral, only to be looked at secretly by us kids when no one was around for years. When me and my cousin got ‘caught’ once, about year later, re-reading letters that we children left for Diane’s casket as a goodbye, that we promised would bring fish we caught to her grave. That I would take care of the clock my mother gave me from my Aunts now empty apartment. We were yelled at for going into those things without permission. 

There were many facets to how it affected me- for one it was my first impression of death, and my aunt was treated as if she had gone on a walkabout indefinitely instead of that she had died. The viewing I went to showed someone in a box who looked nothing like my aunt, wearing clothes she never would have worn in life, (for good reason, it was actually an outfit of my mother's). The funeral directors had gotten the makeup wrong, covering the accident marks, it looked like a mannequin, taking the detachment a further step.

        I was not to go to the funeral, it being ‘not for children’, even though the viewing was okay. My cousins we allowed to go to the viewing, so it was okay for me to go...required, actually. They did not go to the funeral, and since no other kids were going to be there, I shouldn't be. I was now required not to be there. That was the thinking. I was sent to school as normal instead. My teacher saw the obit, pulled me aside and asked me to not mention anything since it may scare other kids.  I essentially had a self grieving process, since no one wished to talk about death and grieving with me. My mother could not share her own emotions and was traumatized, my grandparents just lost their 28 year old child, so I was rather left to my own devices in figuring things out. 

I had been told by classmates that a soul stays on earth for three days after death, so I was convinced that my aunt would return as a zombie. Every sound and creak in the apartment was my aunt returning to take someone to heaven with her, I was convinced. I did not sleep for three nights after Easter that year. Then had nightmares about the viewing for years after. 

        There were also a lot of cakes post funeral showing up at my grandmothers house, and I called them "Going to Heaven Cakes", as if it was a going away party, we all got gifts, things from my Aunt's house, my Aunt got lots and lots of flowers...again a misunderstanding (or a child’s pure understanding) of how death was being treated around me. Then I was told it was cruel to my cousins to think of it like that.

        But a going away party I think would have been more my Aunt's personality. She was full of life. A bold personality. A modern Huntress. She got a funeral that was respectful, traditional, but lifeless and not filled with my Aunts being. Perhaps this was the seed, a small thing buried in the concrete of my mind for over 30 years before sprouting into the path I've only recently started...

Chinese American Funerals

Fascinating (if brief) look at a Chinese American funeral service...

Thanks to The Daily Undertaker...

American Chinese Funeral - Documentary by Sylvana Chau

Unearthed Catacombs

From Abcnews.com

Unearthed Catacombs in Rome; Jeweled Skull Beards...

This guy is wearing more jewelry than the entire worth of my Ford Fiesta...