graves and death
I wanted to start this with out taking over the other visiting post ( I was on the verge of and sorry )
my dad dug his moms grave with no other help and to his dying day he had a lot of hard feeling toward people who would not help or even lend him a tarp to cover it ( it was raining hard )
I have a photo of dads family when he was just a very young boy of his only brother (dead) in a wooden coffin propped up with the rest of the family standing around just before the burial I would guess late 1930's very early 40's
from what I have learned ,use to be photos were rare, so a birth / death or marriage was about it when it came to photos
my older brother died just less than a month old in bed with mom and dad from phenomena I have a photo of him deceased also .
mom and dad were in Ohio at the time he passed and took him to Tennessee to bury him
mom told me he was not embalmed the mortician gave her some cream to place on him during the time until his interment. they put his casket (and him) in the back seat of there car and took him that way hard to imagine but times were different that was 1956 . I am sure they had no money and did what they had to do
I came along 1957 and was about killed in a car wreck ( another story ) but mom was so overprotective to extreme with us kids (my brother and sisters that followed ) after that
my dad dug his moms grave with no other help and to his dying day he had a lot of hard feeling toward people who would not help or even lend him a tarp to cover it ( it was raining hard )
I have a photo of dads family when he was just a very young boy of his only brother (dead) in a wooden coffin propped up with the rest of the family standing around just before the burial I would guess late 1930's very early 40's
from what I have learned ,use to be photos were rare, so a birth / death or marriage was about it when it came to photos
my older brother died just less than a month old in bed with mom and dad from phenomena I have a photo of him deceased also .
mom and dad were in Ohio at the time he passed and took him to Tennessee to bury him
mom told me he was not embalmed the mortician gave her some cream to place on him during the time until his interment. they put his casket (and him) in the back seat of there car and took him that way hard to imagine but times were different that was 1956 . I am sure they had no money and did what they had to do
I came along 1957 and was about killed in a car wreck ( another story ) but mom was so overprotective to extreme with us kids (my brother and sisters that followed ) after that
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It is somehow comforting at times to recall and record (in some form) various events throughout our lives that have shaped us into the people we are. Many (probably most) of us have been nearly killed/died in some type of "event" or many "events", as they say, "there but for the Grace of God go I". Often times, recalling/writing down these memories/events brings tears to the eyes. I think it is right and proper to recall/remember/honor the people in our lives who have somehow influenced us into the people we are today. Certainly, parents loosing their first child would have a great affect on later children by the way the parents treat them. Quick story, my father followed in his father's and grand father's footsteps and became a licensed mortician. At the time of this event, he had two young sons, about age 6 months and about 2 years old (my older brothers). A friend of his was a new father of just a few months. My fathers friend went on a business trip of several days, while he was gone, his child got sick, was hospitalized and died. My father did the embalming for his friends baby. He told me this story probably 40 years after it happened and it teared him up to tell it because he said all he could see when embalming that baby was his own babies. This happened about 1958. Thanks for the personal stories Ditch-Runner.
BKW
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Went to my 50th high school reunion a couple of years ago. Out of my class of 46 nearly a third are gone.
My four best buddies were all gone -- one to brain damage from "Texas Schoolboy Football", another to cancer, another to a rare disease and not sure about the other one.
But the one that made me think about the world was when I was told the kid that bullied me in the 5th grade had committed suicide when he was 21. Looking back we think he couldn't handle being gay in the late '50's.
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By myself, I dug my mother's grave. (for her ashes)
A little advice: Don't do that. Too emotional. Hire someone.We had two funerals. The first - where she lived the last 30 years of her life and the 2nd - where she lived her first 50 years.A little advice: Don't do that. Too emotional. Just don't do that.0 -
I have found that the older I get, the more I find myself thinking about my own mortality. Add a devastating killer virus to the mix along with the losses of just about every close friend I have ever had and...….
There is comfort knowing I will be reunited with them in the not too distant future.0 -
+1 brook, seems the older I get the less friends I have and the more time on my hands for things to do. If I go fishing I think of the old friends I used to fish with, same with hunting, used to run the gun shows and knew most of the guys behind the tables, almost all the guys I used to work with are gone, and only have one real buddy left from my days in the marines, sucks getting old......... 0 -
I never did like thinking about death. The Marines and Vietnam probably didn't do anything to change that for the better. As I sit here thinking...Daryl Singletary's song about having too much fun comes to mind. Is that a bad thing or is it similar in some way to the old saying about being young and feeling invincible? I never have had the feeling that I was having too much fun nor invincible, so maybe a better way of describing such feelings has to do with being young and dumb. Whatever the case might be...I'm thankful that I can shed tears mixed with happiness when the time calls for it, because I'd like to take this with me in this life. 0 -
Something I have learned over the years is that much of my grief from close losses is a form of selfishness. One I sure wish I could take control of. Surely the person I miss is in a much better place and that SHOULD make me happy. But my selfish side takes that away.
The only condolence for me (me is a selfish word) ( and I am not a Holy roller) (just a Christian) is TIME.
The more time that passes the more I forget about the missing person. Little by little all those happy moments shared get forgotten. Just like the song...…"Isn't Life Strange"0 -
i have missed my 4 foot buddies more than all but a select few people 0 -
It seems a lot of us agree that once we are gone, those left behind can handle it however they want.But I have seen no mention of obituaries.
Now is the time to get out a pen and paper if you want to make a final statement. Its your last chance to remind folks how much you appreciate them and some of the wonderful experiences of your life.Here is a beautiful old obit I discovered while researching my family tree. The name and location are legit (Leffler and Montgomery County, VA) - I just can't connect the bloodlines.
They don't write obits like this anymore. This dear lady is remembered.
Brother McFerris, permit me, through the Advocate, to announce that on day before yesterday, at 2 o'clock, P.M., death entered the quiet domestic circle, and removed from the bosom of the church below, to the church above, sister Elizabeth Bagwell, the wife of our mutual friend and brother, Willie Bagwell, Esq. Sister Elizabeth Bagwell's maiden name was Leffler She was born in Montgomery County, Va., October 29,1800, and was united in marriage to her surviving husband, in Boone County, MO., June 28, 1821, but subsequently removed to this (Montgomery) county, Tenn., where, in the year 1834, she became the subject of converting grace, and attached herself to the Methodist Episcopal Church at Bethlehem, and continued an acceptable and worthy member to the day of her death. She was emphatically a church-going member, her seat at preaching and class meeting never being vacated, unless providentially. Her house was for many years the quiet resting place of the itinerant temporal preacher. Few persons perhaps enjoyed greater satisfaction in contributing to the temporal wants of those who ministered in spiritual things, than she. Her afflictions were protracted under the wasting influence of pulmonary consumption, but the grace of God, which had cheered her for many years in health, did not fail her in affliction. When the messenger came, he found her with the armor on; and without a struggle or groan she passed away from the sorrows of earth to the joys of heaven.
May her bereaved husband and motherless children all live for God, and join her in heaven is the prayer of their pastor, Joseph Willis.0 -
very eloquently written. and on the other end of the spectrum. "Here lies Les More 4 slugs from a 44 no les no more". either way gets the point across. when my wife passed eight years ago i asked each of her four children individually to write an obit. it was very enlightening to read what each one found important to say about their mother 0
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