I recently started working on memorial videos for people. I love taking pictures, but also looking at and scanning old pictures. The video allows me to take a bunch and string them together in a hopefully logical manner that also tells a story about someone or a family, put to music and a theme for them to enjoy. In doing this project for a friend, I suggested we look at their family tree as well.
Initially I was suggesting that they look at doing their family tree and pointed them at ancestry.com. I figured I could add to her video some snippets of a tree like graphic to help with gaps in the video where there were no pictures of some people (note to you all - take pictures of everyone even if they hate having their photo taken - someday you and they will appreciate having those shots of them). But I got antsy after about sixty seconds and I went to ancestry.com and starting doing the research myself.
I LOVE research and particularly genealogy. To me it is as close as I currently get to time travel outside of Doctor Who (the tenth Doctor being the best) and I do so want to travel in time (back not forward). Almost immediately I was again hooked.
I'd worked on my own family's history for nearly a decade until a falling out made it too sensitive for me to work on. This is just as exciting to me even though not my family. They become my family as I learn more about them.
It all came back, the excitement over the wealth of information on a single line of census data! Why was she living with her parents at the age of 31? Oh, she was divorced - how scandalous in the twenties...I wonder what happened. They owned a radio set. Why was the government asking about that? More research!!
Is it sick that I enjoy research so much? Maybe. But being a closet detective/librarian/stalker, it just fits with who I am.
So I use my favorite tools to find out more. The Radio question was fascinating - more about that later after I research it further. And yes, she was divorced, but then remarried, a wealthy younger man. More interesting soap opera like thoughts come to mind.
As I work it gives me things that I can use to trigger the living in that family and listen to stories. A big voyeuristic, but anecdotes add to a great family history story. It's all about stories. Everything we are is all about stories. Stories we live, remember, perceive, tell ourselves, tell others - some accurate, some not.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
To Each His Own
I went to the funeral of a dear friend this week. So close that I would call him family really. Considering how much time I spend in cemeteries, I can probably count on one hand (wait, I left out Uncle Henry, so two hands) the number of funerals I have been to.
This was the first time I experienced being around the home during the planning part of the process. Without going into much detail, I discovered it wasn't quite what I thought it would be. I hadn't factored into the process that not everyone would want an obituary or a service. I hadn't factored into the process that everyone believes something different and may not even plan to ever visit the cemetery. Not visit a cemetery?? How could that be? Well, to be honest, I haven't visited my mother or father's graves once since their funerals. I've visited the graves of hundreds if not thousands of others....hmmm....
I hadn't wanted to ask too many pointed questions and kept looking for an obituary not realizing that there would not be one. Hmmmm....how then, I wondered, did friends and acquaintances find out? "Those who need to know, know." True and with the internet, word will spread even without the traditional channels.
To me, most of the process, writing an obituary, selecting a spot in the cemetery, selecting an urn or coffin, coming up with something to say at the service, was sort of a tradition or an obligation. It is what is expected. But it isn't an obligation at all. It's whatever the the deceased had planned or the living decide to do. And everyone is different. Everyone grieves differently, so the outcome can be very different in different families.
I think most of what we do when someone has died is for others - all the notifications and such. It allows them to learn of the death without us making a lot of emotional phone calls. Texting just wouldn't be right would it? It is more and more right than you would imagine. A service and burial doesn't ever give the close loved ones closure. That, too, is for the others. Once that part is over, those folks go back about their daily lives and you get to grieve in private as you need to. It gets them out of your hair. And whether or not anyone plans to or ever does visit the grave site selected is really irrelevant.
The people you lose that held a spot in your heart aren't there at the cemetery, they are in your heart where they always were and always will remain.
I will visit this grave, not because I think he is there (I don't believe he is) but just because, it was a nice spot and it will be a quiet space where I can remember. And because I like cemeteries.
This was the first time I experienced being around the home during the planning part of the process. Without going into much detail, I discovered it wasn't quite what I thought it would be. I hadn't factored into the process that not everyone would want an obituary or a service. I hadn't factored into the process that everyone believes something different and may not even plan to ever visit the cemetery. Not visit a cemetery?? How could that be? Well, to be honest, I haven't visited my mother or father's graves once since their funerals. I've visited the graves of hundreds if not thousands of others....hmmm....
I hadn't wanted to ask too many pointed questions and kept looking for an obituary not realizing that there would not be one. Hmmmm....how then, I wondered, did friends and acquaintances find out? "Those who need to know, know." True and with the internet, word will spread even without the traditional channels.
To me, most of the process, writing an obituary, selecting a spot in the cemetery, selecting an urn or coffin, coming up with something to say at the service, was sort of a tradition or an obligation. It is what is expected. But it isn't an obligation at all. It's whatever the the deceased had planned or the living decide to do. And everyone is different. Everyone grieves differently, so the outcome can be very different in different families.
I think most of what we do when someone has died is for others - all the notifications and such. It allows them to learn of the death without us making a lot of emotional phone calls. Texting just wouldn't be right would it? It is more and more right than you would imagine. A service and burial doesn't ever give the close loved ones closure. That, too, is for the others. Once that part is over, those folks go back about their daily lives and you get to grieve in private as you need to. It gets them out of your hair. And whether or not anyone plans to or ever does visit the grave site selected is really irrelevant.
The people you lose that held a spot in your heart aren't there at the cemetery, they are in your heart where they always were and always will remain.
I will visit this grave, not because I think he is there (I don't believe he is) but just because, it was a nice spot and it will be a quiet space where I can remember. And because I like cemeteries.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Missing Remains....My Internal Debate
I love cemeteries, as is evidenced by the massive amount of time I spend in them, taking pictures, remembering and memorializing on behalf of people I don't know. I love the small seventeenth and eighteenth century cemeteries near where I live and also the large rolling garden cemeteries. That being said, I would prefer a green, unmarked burial myself. I have a connection to nature and want to just return to it, but also I have self esteem issues and don't believe anyone would visit my grave. Space is also a consideration - is there room for the space required for vaults and coffins and all? And what are we preserving those bodies for?
Until green cemeteries began to grow (so to speak) in popularity, my choice was cremation and some sort of potentially illegal distribution by wind...or water. I was reading an article today about missing cremains. Here is the link: http://www.ktvu.com/news/news/special-reports/special-grave/nXdsk/.
I am struck by a number of things in this article. Mostly, the complete ineptness of a cemetery management company that they misplaced not only a container of remains, but a vault and personal mementos and are making the suggestion that someone had a motive to remove or steal them. Let's face it, they lost them, they were never interred to start with or they were interred in the wrong grave site and will never be found. Apparently interring people or their remains in whatever form in the wrong grave is a common occurrence. How often is probably impossible to know unless someone questions it. But who goes back to the grave after the funeral and how soon after?
How many funerals have you been to where you have returned to the grave later to visit? I've never been back to my father's grave (of course that is because I didn't really enjoy his company when he was alive). I would, I suspect, find it difficult to locate the exact section even though I consider myself to have a good memory and an affinity for directions. Often when I speak with people or go with them to look for someone, they have a very different idea of the location of the grave based on their recollection of the funeral. Emotion and memory are tricky. So you wander and wander until you find it or give up. Or you ask for a map. You get a map and it is not even close to your recollection, but do you question it when you find the headstone with the name? Not likely. You accept the name on the monument as verification that you were wrong and they are right.
This family has been visiting their father's grave for sixteen years. Sixteen years!! And there is nothing there. To be honest I feel they have every right to run that cemetery management company through the courts as far as they can. They paid a hefty price (just guessing) for the cremation, the container, the vault, the opening of the grave, the interment...it all adds up. They paid for a service and were cheated. They trusted and were let down.
But I also feel that people we loved aren't tied to that location where we leave their mortal remains. I think they are tied to our hearts and our memories. I don't think it matters where I am or where their remains are when I recollect our times together or my feelings about the loss of them. That they went there regularly for sixteen years, reflects on how much they loved him and his memory lives on beautifully in their hearts. It doesn't really matter that he wasn't in that exact spot.
I realize that in saying this, I am contradicting my own obsession with visiting cemeteries which is just another issue for therapy.
Until green cemeteries began to grow (so to speak) in popularity, my choice was cremation and some sort of potentially illegal distribution by wind...or water. I was reading an article today about missing cremains. Here is the link: http://www.ktvu.com/news/news/special-reports/special-grave/nXdsk/.
I am struck by a number of things in this article. Mostly, the complete ineptness of a cemetery management company that they misplaced not only a container of remains, but a vault and personal mementos and are making the suggestion that someone had a motive to remove or steal them. Let's face it, they lost them, they were never interred to start with or they were interred in the wrong grave site and will never be found. Apparently interring people or their remains in whatever form in the wrong grave is a common occurrence. How often is probably impossible to know unless someone questions it. But who goes back to the grave after the funeral and how soon after?
How many funerals have you been to where you have returned to the grave later to visit? I've never been back to my father's grave (of course that is because I didn't really enjoy his company when he was alive). I would, I suspect, find it difficult to locate the exact section even though I consider myself to have a good memory and an affinity for directions. Often when I speak with people or go with them to look for someone, they have a very different idea of the location of the grave based on their recollection of the funeral. Emotion and memory are tricky. So you wander and wander until you find it or give up. Or you ask for a map. You get a map and it is not even close to your recollection, but do you question it when you find the headstone with the name? Not likely. You accept the name on the monument as verification that you were wrong and they are right.
This family has been visiting their father's grave for sixteen years. Sixteen years!! And there is nothing there. To be honest I feel they have every right to run that cemetery management company through the courts as far as they can. They paid a hefty price (just guessing) for the cremation, the container, the vault, the opening of the grave, the interment...it all adds up. They paid for a service and were cheated. They trusted and were let down.
But I also feel that people we loved aren't tied to that location where we leave their mortal remains. I think they are tied to our hearts and our memories. I don't think it matters where I am or where their remains are when I recollect our times together or my feelings about the loss of them. That they went there regularly for sixteen years, reflects on how much they loved him and his memory lives on beautifully in their hearts. It doesn't really matter that he wasn't in that exact spot.
I realize that in saying this, I am contradicting my own obsession with visiting cemeteries which is just another issue for therapy.
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