When I was younger, I took note of how often my mother would check the obituaries in the daily paper and periodically call out to my dad that so-and-so had passed away and what a shame that was. For me, it always seemed to have a bit of a ghoulish feel to it, and I felt confident that it was something that I wouldn’t do myself when I got to her age, which would be never, so far away into the future as it seemed to me, a teenager at the time.
Over fifty years later, here I am doing that very thing, every single day. I do it online, and I check out the notices in the windows of print shops and flower stores. I think it has to do with the inevitability of things coming to a close in this realm. Sort of reminds me of a story in a literature book called Cranes Fly South, a story of an older gentleman coming to grips, in his way, with the inexorable march of time. Sad and poignant is what it was.
When I walk by the shop windows, I’ll always check out the obituaries displayed there, seeing who might have passed, whether I knew them, and generally making sure that they don’t have me up there. So far so good.
I passed by the flower shop this morning and saw the obituary I’ve posted below. From the photo, I knew I didn’t know her, and as I saw she was from Shawville originally, I was pretty certain of that. But I continued reading anyway, because I do that kind of thing, seeing if I may know any of the person’s family.
The first laugh came in the second paragraph. Then came another, and then another still. By that time I was laughing out loud every couple of seconds. Earlier in life I thought my mother was being ghoulish, but I don’t know how that would compare to people walking down a sidewalk and seeing me splitting a gut while reading an obituary. Context can be everything, and those other people didn’t have it as they walked by. They just saw some guy laughing at a death notice. It can’t be a good look.
What a woman, and what a life, and what a beautiful assembly of words to share her passing with others. The humour was, without doubt, a reflection upon her, and how she interacted with the world and those in it. My goodness, she must have been something.
I didn’t know her, but after reading that obituary, I wish I had. I offer my condolences to the family and friends of this remarkable spirit.
And my most profound hope that, wherever the next stage of life takes her, they get their meals catered.
NEWSMAGRENFREW 