Last week, I listened to one of my very best friends tell another that she found my daily reading of the obituaries to be "morbid and depressing." Actually, I have never thought of this daily habit as being either morose or depressing and began a closer examination of my motives for regularly checking-out the "obits."
My Grandfather (who we called Poppa) was a no-nonsense, blue collar kind of guy, who used to tell the following joke: "First thing every morning I read the obituaries, and if my name is not listed there, I get dressed and go to work!" Well, as children we thought that was very funny, and it probably laid the foundation for me that looking at the obits was not necessarily sad, but rather an expression of ones reality: either "being", or not "being". And if you are fortunate enough to wake up alive, you simply get on with your day.
In examining my motives, it occurs to me that the regular perusal of the obituaries can tell as much about the obituary reader as about the deceased. For example, one who views the obituaries as "depressing" certainly has a very different view of death, than say, one who finds them "informative."
It could well be personality. We all know, some see the glass half empty; some see the glass half full. I've always been a "half full" kind of person, and try to look at all aspects of life (and death, I guess) in as positive a way as is possible. Knowing who has recently passed on is perhaps part of my will to be aware of what is going on in my community.
I consider a multi paragraph obituary as having historical value as a small part of the greater history of our area. I've always been fascinated by local history, especially family stories, including family trees, marriages, careers, military service, hobbies and interests, accomplishments, and even reasons for death (illness, accident, or old age).
My son the sociologist would also tell me there is much sociological information one could glean from an obit, including the migrations of ethnic groups to our community from around the world, varying religious beliefs which can be reflected in burial customs, traditions and church affiliation, family sizes, divorce and disease rates, etc.etc.
I am a fourth generation resident of my community. My parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and great-grandparents lived here. Eighty to a hundred years ago it was a smaller, more intimate place where everyone knew everyone else. I've always believed that in our community there are not "six degrees of separation" but only "two to three" --- especially for those like me --- with long family history here. I am familiar with and recognize many family names, businesses, and other connections. In my various jobs over the years (politics and high-end sales), this awareness of a person's history, affiliations, and friends, political views, likes and dislikes has proven to be very useful. It's also been astute for me to know when a person passed away.
Therefore, scanning and reading the obituaries, which I began doing long ago, is meaningful to me on many levels. I find them to be more interesting than morose. My dear friend may never agree with me and that's OK. And, like my Poppa, if I don't see my name listed in there, I get dressed, and get on with my day!
