Appendix VIII. Excerpt

Giving Sorrow Words

by Candy Lightner and Nancy Hathaway

Warner Books, New York, 1990

The following excerpt, chapter 4 of the Lightner-Hathaway book, is included for educational purposes only, as an example of the kinds of materials that can be used to discuss this topic. Additional copies may be reprinted only for educational use and are not to be duplicated for profit.

Chapter 4. Funerals and Mourning Customs

I wanted to dig my sons grave. They wouldnt let me. They used machines to do it. I would have had great satisfaction if I could have dug the grave.

--RAY TANGUAY

Our attitudes toward death and mourning have changed dramatically in the last two centuries. In the nineteenth century, people threw themselves into dramatic, impassioned mourning. They used parasols, handkerchiefs, stationery, and even tea sets designed exclusively for mourning; they wore mourning rings and pendants which might encase a lock of hair of the deceased. The excesses of the age can be seen most vividly in Queen Victoria, who mourned for her husband, Albert, nonstop from his death in 1861 to her own in 1901. For forty years, she put out his shaving supplies every morning and kept a picture of him propped up on his side of the bed. Nor was her extended mourning for Albert the only example of her sense of propriety about such matters. In 1859, when her greatgrandmother died, Victoria was outraged to learn that one of her greatgrandmothers descendants in the Prussian court was not dressed in mourning--despite the fact that the child was only five months old. Lilac and white, she suggested, were proper mourning colors for babies.

Black, of course, was the preferred color for adults, and especially for women, who unlike men were expected to be clad entirely in that color. During the first year, widows weeds were made of dull black and accessorized with veils, hats, and "weeper cuffs." During the second year, shiny black, such as silk, was permitted. Afterward, one might gradually look toward other colors--beginning with white, also a color associated with mourning.

During this period, although there was much overt mourning, death was romanticized Nine-teenthcentury novels are filled with tearjerker scenes such as the deaths of Beth in Little Women and of Little Nell in Dickens serialized novel The Old Curiosity Shop--an event which caused weeping crowds to gather in the port of New York avidly awaiting the next installment in the futile hope that Dickens wouldnt let her die.

In the twentieth century, there was a rebellion against the maudlin extreme of the Victorians. In its place, people embraced twentiethcentury repression. In an essay originally published in 1955 and titled "The Pornography of Death," British anthropologist Geoffrey Corer explained that, during the Victorian era, sex was unmentionable but "death was no mystery, except in the sense that death is always a mystery." By the middle of the twentieth century, it was the other way around. "Whereas copulation has become more and more mentionable, particularly in the AngloSaxon societies, death had become more and more unmentionable, " he wrote. Mourning costumes disappeared; houses were no longer draped in black; black mourning wreaths were no longer in fashion (in part because, on the day of the funeral, they provided an easy mark for burglars); death became a private affair.

Today, although a considerable movement is concerned with the process of conscious dying as a significant life experience, the prohibition against mourning remains. But turning away from mourning is ultimately as selfdefeating as drowning in grief. The balanced way to travel through grief is to acknowledge its varied emotions. In many ways, that journey begins with the funeral.

The funeral is the first major event of the mourners life without the deceased. More than an unhappy gathering, more than a formalized farewell, the funeral is the pivot between before and after. Like other rituals, it is a rite of passage that provides a framework for change. At the funeral, if at no other time, the awesome passage from life to death is seriously addressed. The funeral is a ceremony of separation that provides an opportunity to express strong feelings, to be recognized and comforted as a mourner, to say farewell with structure, solemnity, and support, and to realign ourselves with the community of mourners--the living. For all those reasons, the funeral or memorial service can help enormously in the process of grieving.

This is true even under the worst of circumstances, when death has come in an untimely and brutal fashion. Elizabeth Pearson is a Shakespearean actress whose brother Billy died in 1971 when he was in the armed forces. He was shot in the head at a military base, and the details of his death were never entirely clear:

My brother was a budding hippie, just getting into his own thoughts about the war. He should have been a conscientious objector. He was shot in the head, and they said it was suicide. But were his fingerprints on the gun? I dont even know. People Ive spoken to since have said, "Your brother was fragged, shot by one of his own men. Without a doubt. Your brother got wasted." It was my mothers choice to have a military funeral and it astounded me because I felt it was the military that killed him. I was angry at the decision.

But in retrospect, I feel differently. There was protocol and that comforted me. Family and close friends sat in rows under a canopy and faced a brandnew aluminum coffin with a flag draped over it. There was a thirteengun salute. It was outrageously dramatic--which I think helped, first because there was no denying that this boy was dead, and second because I knew he was going to be properly laid to rest.

Theres no way to know what elements of a funeral will make an emotional impact. The most reassuring aspect of a funeral may be the number of people who appear; it may be words said by the minister or rabbi or a eulogy spoken by a friend; or it may be a small, symbolic gesture that provides emotional release. Thats something Lee Shelton noted after his eightyyearold father was killed in an automobile crash:

I dont place a lot of credence in ritual. But at my fathers funeral, one part of the ceremony did affect me. I went out of my way to toss the first bit of soil onto his coffin. Tossing that handful of soil onto the coffin was like the final goodbye. It brought everything into such focus at that moment but it was freeing thereafter.

At Caris funeral, I was especially touched when her classmates filed past the casket and one by one placed a single rose on top. That gesture told me that her death would be mourned by many. Over three hundred people were there; my sorrow was shared. This is one of the great benefits of funerals: they place the death in a social context by giving us an opportunity to mourn together, and in so doing, they help us to feel less alone.

CULTURAL AND RELIGIOUS TRADITIONS

While death is universal, ways of dealing with it are as varied as the languages people speak and the ways they think. Some cultures, such as those of the Mediterranean, encourage strong emotional reactions at funerals; others favor the stiff upper lip. The Balinese, who are not known to cry at all, at least in public, actually encourage laughter at funerals by dropping the coffin into a creek--sometimes more than once. The Samoans have an extremely brief period of mourning, whereas in Greece, widows are expected to wear black for the rest of their lives. In Southeast Asia, emotional reactions are considered perfectly acceptable in public but in private grievers are expected to maintain some control. The English generally take the opposite approach. What feels natural to one group may seem deeply unnatural to another; what is meant to be comforting in one tradition may, in the context of another, appear disrespectful.

In the United States, styles of mourning vary widely. The funeral of a jazz musician in New Orleans with its syncopated parade resembles very little the subdued farewell given their loved ones by the Quakers of Pennsylvania. At the funeral and during the period of mourning that follows, a behavior considered utterly natural and important by one group, such as wearing black or visiting the grave, may strike another group as unnecessary. Among AfroAmericans, funerals are occasions for large family and community gatherings, and attendance is given enormous emphasis, even for distant relations. But after the funeral, according to research conducted in 1974 by David K. Reynolds and Richard A. Kalish comparing ethnic groups in the United States, AfroAmericans put the least emphasis on visiting the grave of a deceased spouse. Americans of Japanese and Mexican descent, on the other hand, overwhelmingly thought it was important to visit frequently.

Even within the context of a single ethnic heritage, patterns can vary markedly as families develop their own styles. Lisa Curran contrasted the ways the two sides of her family--both Irish Catholic--cope with death:

Ive heard wild stories about wakes from one side of my family. My greatgrandfather owned a hotel that had a saloon and my Uncle Timmy told a story in which a dead body somehow ended up propped up in the saloon. You hear stories like that. As far as I know they never actually happened. But everyone drinks a lot and it becomes a party.

On the other side of the family, the wakes are morbid, downtrodden, and depressing, filled with guilt and remorse. When my grandparents on that side of the family died, we stayed at the funeral home for several days. Since my Uncle Denny was a priest, everybody up to the bishop said the funeral mass. There were maybe fifteen people--definately holier than thou.

The goal in every era and in every culture is the same: to provide a proper conclusion to a life and to begin the process of living without the deceased. Those tasks are generally considered to fall into the realm of religion. Whether the service takes place in a church, synagogue, or funeral home (as is increasingly the case), the solemnity of the proceedings, the religious trappings, and the presence of clergy underscore the gravity of the event.

Protestant customs vary, depending on the denomination. Generally, there is a brief service at the church or funeral home that includes a reading from the Bible, prayers, organ music, possibly the singing of hymns, and a funeral sermon or meditation. Selections of poetry or prose are sometimes read. The casket may be open or closed, depending on the denomination, and there may or may not be a eulogy. At the grave, there is a brief committal service. Afterward, as in other groups, people usually gather together for a meal.

In Catholicism, the rites ideally begin prior to death, when the dying person receives the final sacraments. (When death is sudden, the priest is permitted to give penance and extreme unction up to several hours after death.) The funeral itself is comprised of three parts: the wake, the funeral mass, and the graveside service. The wake, which occurs the night before the funeral, is conducted in the presence of the body, which is in an open casket. Held either in the funeral parlor or in the mourners home, the wake service may include psalms, prayers, a rosary, and a short homily on the meaning of life, death, and resurrection. For many hours, friends and relatives come to offer condolences, to pray, and to view the body; indeed, the term "viewing" is sometimes used instead of "wake." The next day, there is a funeral or requiem mass. The coffin is closed and covered with a white pall upon which a cross might be placed. Holy water, incense, and candles accent the solemnity of the highly structured service, which emphasizes the concept of the new life the deceased has found with God.

After the funeral mass, the "final commendation and farewell" takes place either in church or at the grave site, which is blessed in advance. It used to be that the family would avoid watching the casket being lowered into the earth. Today, the tendency is to stay, so that the reality of the death cannot be denied.

In Judaism, burial takes place immediately--within twentyfour hours, if possible. The simple, wooden coffin is closed, and there are few flowers. At the funeral, which is a short one including prayers and a eulogy, members of the immediate family are given a black ribbon which is then cut to indicate their grief.

After the funeral, there is a brief service at the cemetery during which the casket is lowered into the ground and the mourners shovel dirt on it. "Shoveling the dirt is an incredibly healing thing to do. Although 1 wouldnever require it, I encourage it very strongly because I find that the actual act of burying is the beginning of the acknowledgment that this horrible thing has happened and the world is forever different," states Rabbi Laura Geller, director of Hillel at the University of Southern California. Following the burial, friends and relatives gather for a traditional "meal of condolence."

Perhaps the most distinctive aspect of the Jewish tradition is not the funeral but the mourning period that follows, when mourners return home for seven days of "sitting shiva" (shiva means "seven"). Traditionally, they light a candle that burns for seven days, sit on wooden stools or benches, and receive visitors. All activities cease except for one: mourning.

The Islamic religion specifies five rituals concerning death: washing the body in a ceremonial manner; wrapping the entire body in clean, preferably white, cloth; prayer; the funeral itself, during which music and crying are forbidden; and burial. If possible, the body is buried directly in the ground, without a casket, and with the face turned toward Mecca. A stone, a few bricks, or some soil can be put under the head, but nothing· else is permitted in the grave. Afterward, people bring food to the family.

According to Islam, there is one God, known as Allah, and many prophets, of whom Mohammed is the last. "Moslems believe Allah is all and He can decide when man has to live and when our life should be ended," states Abdal Mageed Nasouef, vicecoordinator of the Islamic Center in Los Angeles. Death is expected to be met with equanimity. Consequently, the mourning period is short. For a threeday period after the funeral, known as Azah, mourners accept condolences. After that, talking about the deceased with the mourners is not encouraged. "It is reminding him of his sadness," Nasouef explains. "So after three days we should return to normal life." (The sole exception occurs when a husband dies, in which case the wife is expected to stay home for three months and ten days.) Mourners are not supposed to become so immersed in their grief that it distracts them from their relationship with God.

Buddhists and Hindus believe that life, death, and rebirth are part of the same continuum, waves on the ocean of existence. The body dies; consciousness remains. The traditional purpose of the funeral, which includes chanting, prayers, the reciting of sacred texts, and eulogies, is to help the deceased adjust to the afterdeath state and prepare for rebirth. At Buddhist funerals, the priest speaks directly to the deceased. The funeral is followed by a fortynineday period during which the person who died theoretically completes the journey from death to rebirth. During that time, mourners repeat prayers intended to ease the transition.

The philosophy and practices of Eastern religions have become increasingly attractive to Westerners during the last several decades. Ron Hammes, a Pennsylvania artist, spent a month at a Buddhist monastery after his wife, editor Tobi Sanders, died in a car crash. He told us about some of his experiences there:

They offered a service for Tobi. There was an altar with a Buddha, flowers (which represent earth), water, incense (representing air), and fire. So it was quite beautiful. They also wrote a poem and gave it to me on a scroll with lovely calligraphy

One of the things I experienced at the monastery was, you can get support, but they dont soothe. If there is such a thing as the dark night of the soul, Ive been through it. I could hardly speak. When I was sitting Zazen, I was in physical agony because the tendons in my legs were not used to sitting for twohour stretches. The lesson was not to run from pain. It had an impact that carried me over. Not to be a bornagain Buddhist, but it comes down to the fact that with every great religious mystic o searcher, whether it was the Buddha or whether it was Christ, at the heart of their teaching was their empathy for the suffering of mankind and their search, not for an escape from it, because there isnt an escape from it, but for a way to go beyond that. This is what sitting Zazen is all about in my life: not calm, not relaxation, but the issue of death, life, suffering. Beneath sitting is that issue. In sitting is the resolution.

BURIAL CUSTOMS

Throughout history, people have buried their dead in vastly different ways. Fifty thousand years ago, the Neanderthals rubbed the bodies of their dead with red ochre and buried them in the fetal position. The Egyptians mummified the deceased (including their dead cats) and, in the case of the pharaohs, erected the most elaborate and permanent tombs the world has ever seen. The Scandinavian Vikings put their dead on boats, set them afire, and sailed them out to sea. The Plains Indians placed the corpse on a high wooden platform or in the branches of a tree and only later buried the skeleton in a sacred burial ground. The impulse to treat the body in a special ritualized way seems to be universal; but nothing else is. In some places in Europe where land is scarce, for instance, burial plots are not yours for eternity. They are temporary residences, and after a while the bones are removed and the space is freed for someone elses use. If this sounds disturbing, it might be because were not accustomed to the idea. Nikolas Stefanidis, Ph.D., a counselor at the Center for Living in West Hollywood, California, described his experience when he returned to his native Greece to pay his respects to his dead grandmother:

On the Greek island where I grew up, because of space limitations, we exhume the bones of the deceased. Theres an interesting ritual that goes with it. They clean the bones with red wine and rosemary. They count every bone and put them in a box with the persons name, the date of birth, and the date of death. Then they have a memorial service. And then you put the bones to rest in a communal mausoleum, a big building where all the bones are stored in boxes. Some people put pictures of the deceased on the boxes. When I went back to Greece I went in and found my grandmothers skull, and I felt as if I had seen her again. It was a good experience.

For most people today, the choice is between burial and cremation. The chief benefit of burial, and it is an important one, is that it provides a safe place to mourn, a place that belongs to the deceased. "I visit my husbands grave every year on his birthday," said New Yorker Anna Shapiro. "I prune the shrub I planted there, and I clear away any weeds that might be growing, and I feel as if I am taking care of him. Its a connection--a physical connection." There can be great solace in that.

Cremation is the preferred mode in many cultures, including India, Japan, and England, where it has become so popular since the turn of the century that it now is the usual choice. In 1989, according to William Hocker, former president of the National Funeral Directors Association, cremation was chosen approximately 15 percent of the time in the United States--and in Southern California, one death in three results in cremation. What once seemed an exotic ritual is becoming commonplace.

Although cremation can be less expensive than burial, most people who choose cremation do so for deeply personal reasons that have little to do with cost. Some people, disturbed by the idea of the body gradually decomposing, as it does with burial, find cremation aesthetically less distressing. Cremation may also be appealing because of the many ways of dispensing the ashes. Although they may be kept in a cemetery vault known as a columbarium, they may also be scattered at sea or in a garden. The idea of the body being returned to the earth in this manner--possibly in a spot the deceased person loved--brings comfort to many people.

Cremation has drawbacks too. People sometimes hope that because cremation is so quick and final, it will shorten the grieving process. It will not. Another difficulty can arise when the remains are not kept in a special spot. When they are scattered over a large area, there is no marker, no plaque, nothing--now or ever.

For that reason, the final resting place should be chosen with care. Theres nothing wrong with the ocean, but if it doesnt have personal associations for you, the situation of "no place to go" may prove disturbing. Choosing an accessible spot can alleviate that problem. Solomon Berg buried his sons ashes among the trees and bushes in his front yard and then marked the spot with a statute tucked in among the foliage. Marcy De Jesus buried her husbands remains in the backyard, where I helped her plant an olive tree. And more people than you might expect keep the ashes inside the house, at least for a while. Sara and Paul Grisanti put the tiny box containing their babys ashes in the large closet that their older children had excitedly transformed into a brightly colored nursery--a room the baby never saw. Joni Schaap put her sons remains on the mantel in the living room, where it is surrounded by athletic trophies and pictures of the blond teenager. The urge to create a spot devoted solely to the deceased is a deeply human one. In Japan, mourners of the Buddhist and Shinto religions typically create household altars that include the ashes and photographs of the deceased along with other objects such as rice and flowers. Cremation not only permits a wide choice of location, it also allows the mourners to create that spot in a variety of ways when theyre ready. With a sudden death in particular, that can be a benefit.

Many people, including myself, like the idea of donating organs to people who require transplants. I was unable to do so with Cari because her body had been so seriously injured that it was impossible, and in any case, it didnt occur to me to ask until almost twelve hours after she died. By then, it was too late. Organs need to be harvested (yes, thats the word they use) immediately.

Finally, there is the option of donating the body to "science." That, too, is a decision that must be made quickly--and generally with the knowledge that it was what the deceased wanted. As a rule, when the body is donated to a school or research facility, mourners hold a memorial service without the body rather than a funeral. But it is also possible to have a funeral in the presence of the body if the funeral director is immediately notified the body has been donated. The undertaker can then prepare the body in the manner specified by the institution, and after the funeral, it will be sent there.

THE CASKET: OPEN OR CLOSED?

Another question that may arise is whether to have an open or a closed casket. Experts in the field of death and dying almost universally favor open casket. "Theres a real catharsis involved, a kind of release," said William Hocker. "After the first time they see the body, the tension is broken and its very therapeutic. With some people, its not helpful. It has to do with personality differences. But overwhelmingly, I would say its better for a person to see."

The reason to see the body is not that it will make you feel better. It certainly did not make me feel better to see my daughter in a casket. But it did help me to accept the finality of her death. eeing the body will not stop mourners from yearning for their loved one or dreaming that the deceased is still alive. But with an open casket, grievers are less likely to harbor fantasies involving mistaken identity or loved ones wandering around with amnesia. Seeing the body dispels any lingering doubts, for no matter how skilled the undertaker is with makeup and wax, when you see the body, you know. A person you love is dead. Thats the reality.

Some people worry that seeing the body will be a horrible experience; they want to remember the deceased as vibrant and healthy and they are afraid that the positive images will be obliterated by the final vision. But often, the way the body looks in the casket can actually be an improvement over how the person looked while ill. Nurse thanatologist Sherry Gibson of Louisville, Kentucky, described her experience when her mother died:

When my mother died, she was fortytwo years old and I was twentysix. I took care of her through her illness. She was a very beautiful woman, a very proud woman, and when she was in the hospital, she had tubes everywhere. She lost all dignity and she lost so much weight and looked terrible. I was in the medical profession and knew all about that kind of stuff, but it was awful for that to be the last image of my mother in my mind.

I couldnt believe it when I went to the funeral home. She looked so good. That was the woman I remember. No, it wasnt the same. Dead is dead and there is no way that a dead body looks like it is alive. But she certainly looked better than she looked when I left her at the hospital the night she died. And that was so comforting to me.

Seeing the body provides a final opportunity to gaze at the face of the person you love, to touch them, to say goodbye in their presence. It can also bring a great sense of relief because at last the person looks at peace. Bookseller Diane J. Williams of Venice, California, spent many nights in the hospital with her eightyearold cousin who was dying of cancer. She describes her regret at not seeing her cousins body after death:

Lauren had been puffy and she had no hair and she looked awful, but as she approached death, she got her eyelashes back and then she got thin again and her hair grew back jetblack and curly--a different color, a different texture. She looked luminous, beautiful, and perfect. But she was full of rage and you could read her pain in her face. After she died, my aunt said it was the most extraordinary thing: her whole body relaxed and there was no pain and her face was clear. Im so sorry I didnt see her.

Seeing the body doesnt have to occur at the funeral. Indeed, many religions oppose opencasket funerals. Many people today are terrified by the thought of seeing, no less touching, a dead body. But keep in mind that throughout most of history, people died at home, and family members would have naturally seen the person after death. Seeing the body, whether its in a casket or on the deathbed, can provide both a jolt of reality and a degree of acceptance. It wont be a wonderful mment, but in the months and years to come, it usually proves to be beneficial.

It also used to be customary for mourners to dress the body. Although this is much less common today, it does occur. When my mother died, her friend Dotty Ward, who is a nurse (and hence was not afraid of the body), wanted to dress her and brush her hair. Many parents whose infants have died have found solace in dressing their dead child for the burial. And within traditional Judaism, there is a special group called the Hevra Kadisha whose function is to prepare the body for burial. Rabbi Geller explains, "The notion of a mortuary that you just send the body to is not an essential part of Jewish tradition. You would volunteer to be a member of the Hevra Kadisha society, and your job would be to wash the body of dead people in a ritualized way. The body is covered so that only the part thats being washed is uncovered. Its very respectful of the body. I read an article in a magazine called Lilith by a nontraditional woman who joined the Hevra Kadisha of her nontraditional synagogue, and she talks about what an incredibly important experience and privilege it is to prepare a body to be buried."

THE CONTEMPORARY FUNERAL

The primary trend in funerals today is toward personalization. People want funerals that reflect the life of the departed. In the past, that hasnt always happened. In a survey conducted in the 1960s among 169 Protestant ministers of various denominations, only 39 percent actually referred to the deceased by name during the funeral services, according to Paul Irion, author of Funeral: Vestige or Value? In many funerals, the lofty questions of life and death and life after death may have been addressed, but the person lying there in the casket was barely mentioned. The funeral may have succeeded as a staged ritual, but as a ceremony meant to comfort the mourners and to put the life of the deceased into a context, it failed miserably. (The same might be said for a bizarre recent invention: the drivein funeral. You pay your respects to the deceased without having to unbuckle your safety belt.)

Depersonalizing death makes it easier for everyone except the mourners to bear. Even the clergy--who may never have met the deceased or the family of the deceased--may find it far easier to preach about death in some grand theoretical sense than to think about an actual human being whose life is over. "The first time I dealt with a person who was grieving, I was a deacon fresh out of school and I felt unprepared," said the venerable Hartshorn Murphy, Jr., of the Episcopal Archdiocese of Los Angeles. "Many of us cope with that situation by hiding behind prayers. In one respect, its healthy, in that it tries to put death in a larger picture. In another way, its hiding. I would put on this aura of the priest and so was untouched by the pain."

For mourners, that pain is unavoidably present. Personalizing the funeral or being involved in its planning can offer a way to assuage some of that pain by doing something for the deceased. Being involved facilitates mourning by turning the grieving into an active rather than a passive process.

However, many mourners are far too griefstricken at the time of the funeral to do anything at all. Getting dressed is hard; walking to the front door is hard; saying "hello" is hard. Fortunately, there are many small ways of personalizing the service. Choosing your own music has that effect. My father loved the bigband music of the forties and fifties, and thats what we played at his funeral. Reading from a favorite book can also turn a standard service into something intimate and moving. At Caris funeral, we read from The Little Prince. Other mourners have chosen selections ranging from T.S. Eliots Four Quartets to poetry written by the deceased.

Having a eulogy is an excellent way to make sure the deceased is reflected in the service. "Its important to talk about the person," states Archdeacon Murphy. "We didnt used to do eulogies. Thats changing. People want to mark the life that as passed."

Mourners often feel incapable of giving a eulogy themselves, which is one reason why most of the time, the clergy does it. But you might ask a friend or relative, someone who had a real relationship with the deceased, to speak a few words. Those personal reminiscences are good to hear at that time. If its possible, you might speak a few words yourself, as Diane J. Williams did at her cousins funeral:

On the day she died, Laurens parents asked me to speak. It scared me--Ive never spoken like that before. I talked about how Lauren and I became friends over a box of crayons and how she liked gruesome movies, and everyone laughed. I talked about the three days Lauren and I spent together when my brother got married.

I was glad I spoke because most of the time, nobody wants to hear you talk about someone whos dead. It was a relief to say, this is why I loved her, this is why Im going to miss her so much. Afterward, there was an awkward space and then people started coming up and introducing themselves to me and thanking me. It made me feel good.

At many funerals today, friends and family members are invited to share anecdotes about the deceased. The picture that emerges can be tremendously moving.

Another way to personalize the service is to incorporate photographs into the surroundings, possibly by placing them around the funeral chapel or at the grave site during the burial service. Or set up a memorabilia table filled with photographs and objects reminiscent of the deceased--things that can help the living find ways to talk about the dead.

Technology has also affected the funeral industry, and some may be surprised that its impact has been both positive and personal. When my friend Carol Shamharts husband, Val Humphreys, died of cancer, she played a cassette tape in which he talked about his impending death. I hardly knew the man, but I sobbed, as did everyone else.

Video displays are another recent innovation. "A video screen is placed in front of the funeral chapel," states William Hocker. "Pictures of the person who died, beginning with their youth and continuing through their marriage and into their old age, are flashed on the screen interspersed with scenes from the persons area or his state. Nothing is said but music is played. It can be terribly touching and beautiful."

Probably the most creative funerals are those held for people whose deaths were anticipated, allowing the dying person to make special requests and the mourners to plan a personalized funeral. In some cases, the requests are very small. For instance, Harry Rosenzweig, who was chairman of the Republican Party in Arizona for over fifteen years, was surprised when he read his wife Sandys will after she died. "She had picked out eight very close women friends to be her pallbearers," he said. "The mortician said hes never seen that."

Occasionally, people are extraordinarily inventive. Shortly before his own death, Los Angeles artist Benjamin Cole attended the funeral of a close friend in New Orleans who died of AIDS: "He was cremated. His friend Emily mixed his ashes with glitter and confetti and everyone got a small box. Then they had a parade to the Mississippi River and they threw him in." Its certainly not a traditional service; but because it reflects so much about the deceased, it must have been incredibly moving. And surely those who participated must have felt both connected to the deceased and bound to each other.

MEMORIAL SERVICES

Many cultures, recognizing how agonizing the first few weeks of mourning are also hold another ceremony a few weeks after the funeral. Traditionally, for example, the Greek Orthodox have a fortyday ceremony, as do many Muslims. Catholicism marks the first thirty days with a "Months Mind Mass," although those are not as prevalent as they once were. Our discomfort with death has caused us to turn away from many of the religious observances that traditionally provided a structure for grieving and a way of releasing some of those feelings.

Secular memorial services, however, often accomplish the same goal of recognizing that initial period. Weeks or even months after the funeral, these services provide additional opportunities to make personal gestures, to acknowledge the loss, and to connect with other mourners. "I went to a memorial service for Sam Peckinpah," states actress Mariette Hartley. "Jason Robards and I had never met before, and we sobbed in each others arms. It was an extension of our lives. Memorial services are vitally important because youre surrounded by friends, and words are spoken, and you can say goodbye with witnesses."

Because memorial services are less rigidly structured than funerals, they can be created in a form the deceased might have appreciated. When twentynineyearold Benjamin Cole died of AIDS, his bereaved friends held a memorial for him. One of them told us about that event:

I attended a party for Benjamin. It was difficult because people were drunk and emotional and weeping. The best part was that a friend of his made an incredible altar, covered with mirrors and candles and, in the middle, Bens handpainted jeans jacket. People were asked to bring photographs and items that belonged to him and to place them on the altar. When we left, we were each invited to take something as a memento.

Memorial services can be small gatherings at which people simply share memories. "I attended a memorial service for an art teacher who had very devoted students," a Los Angeles biographer said. "A former student, a colleague, a childhood friend--an old man he grew up with--and his wife all spoke. His recent artwork had been hung on the walls, and there was a strong sense of completion and wholeness about them. The service really was a celebration of his life." Hearing that story reminded me of the one regret we had at my fathers funeral, which was that we hadnt displayed his photographs. He was a wonderful photographer. It would have been nice to see his pictures at the funeral, and I believe he would have liked the gesture.

When the deceased had a very wide network of friends and acquaintances, memorial services can provide a more public kind of mourning. A few months after his wife died, Ron Hammes received a call from the publishing house where she had worked, asking him to take part in planning a memorial service:

I arranged for a service to be held at Barnard College, where Tobi went to school. She was very fond of Barnard. Trying to do it in the style she would have liked, I had it catered with lots of her favorite foods. I ordered champagne and caviar. I got in touch with a young woman from the Manhattan School of Music who came and played all the wonderful songs from the sixties that Tobi loved so much. There were a few speakers, including representatives fom Barnard and Bantam, a friend of Tobis who has since died of AIDS, and Tobis writing teacher, Joy Chu, who died only a month or two later, and Tobis sister. I made a toast to Tobis life. Over three hundred people were there, which I felt was a wonderful tribute to Tobi. People wanted to know what to do, and I asked that contributions be made to the American Foundation for AIDS Research. That was the way she would have wanted it.

ANNIVERSARY RITUALS

The first anniversary of the death is recognized as important in many cultures. The loss is still so fresh, the grief so strong. Yet the desire to move away from grieving and into the enjoyment of life is also present. For that reason, the end of the first year is often marked by a ritual observance of some kind.

Among Western religions, Judaism is most specific in its guidelines for mourning. Each day during the first years, mourners recite the Kaddish, a prayer in praise of life. On the anniversary, known as Yahrzeit, a candle is lit and the Kaddish is said. Afterward, it is no longer spoken daily. "The folk tradition is that the soul now finds peace," Rabbi Laura Geller explains. "Another way to see it is that the soul needs you to let go of it. Its not just for the mourners that there needs to be a time when mourning is less intense, but for the dead person as well." From then on, Kaddish is spoken only on certain high holy days and on the anniversary--for the rest of your life. "As long as youre alive to say Kaddish, youre effectively saying in a ritual way that this relationship continues," Rabbi Geller states. "Its different now, but it never ends."

The first anniversary isnt the only one that hurts. "Grief returns with the revolving year," wrote the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, and he didnt just mean the first year; it happens every year for a long, long time. Thats why many cultures and religions set aside one day in the year when mourners can take special note of the losses they have suffered. In Judaism, special services accompany Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, the most important day in the Jewish year. In Catholicism, on All Souls Day, November 2, the names of those who have died are read aloud and mourners light candles. Possibly the most extensive yearly ritual is a variation of All Souls Day: the Mexican Day of the Dead. Prior to the actual day, people create altars at home featuring photographs, flowers, cakes, candles, and the favorite foods of the deceased. Memento mori, including little toy skeletons doing everything from playing in mariachi bands to getting married, are ubiquitous. On the Day of the Dead, people spend the night at the cemetery, dancing, eating, drinking, and offering candy skulls and coffins to their dead relatives and friends. The idea is not to dwell on death in a morbid way but to demystify it, to allow mourners to think about death in a general way, to remember the particular deaths in their own lives, to grieve, and to move on.

Those ritual acknowledgments serve the psychological purpose of recognizing the continued grief that mourners may feel. Those feelings are most likely to arise on the anniversary: the anniversary syndrome can even affect people who do not consciously remember the date. Some years are more difficult than others. One year when I was feeling particularly sad about Cari and was far from the cemetery where she is buried, my friend Michael Bissonnette and I bought a bouquet of roses, walked to the beach, and tossed them into the ocean. Symbolic gestures like that can provide powerful release and a great deal of comfort that goes beyond what you might gain from crying on your bed (although thats also something you should allow yourself to do). By acting on your sorrow, you begin to release it.

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