by Mark Morelli
I wake up early to have some of the day to myself. I don't turn on the radio or television. Everyone knows the most important appliance before 6 a.m. is the coffee maker.
And then I read the newspaper, leisurely and at my own pace.
Some people can't get along without sports. Some, "Guiding Light." I find that my day's tone is set only after I read the obituaries.
My newspaper's obit page editor must be a distant relative of Norman Vincent Peal. Most obits simply say that the person "died" or "passed away." Not my paper. Here's how they say someone died:
Went home to be with the Lord. Passed into God's arms. Joined the love of his life in Heaven. (And here's the best one, road directions to Nirvana): Made his transition and passed through the veil of the Light of the I Am.
My newspaper also puts nicknames in parentheses. White folks have nicknames like Chet, Bud, Pete and Billy. Black folks have the best nicknames in their obits: Boot 'Em Up. Honey Chunk. Late Night. (Late Night died suddenly at age 40. Happy? I'd like to think he'd earned the nickname by living life to its fullest.)
These are nicknames that connote fun and laughter, drinks and pastries, big hugs and tall tales, times for one more cup of coffee.
I have always loved reading biographies. And what are obituaries but the condensed biographies of everyday people. (Studs Terkel's great contribution to the culture is that he has allowed people the opportunity to create their own obituaries, in a sense.) Obits are the celebration, however brief, of lives. I don't recall ever reading anything unkind about an ordinary person in an obituary. In this age of glitz and celebrity, obituaries celebrate accomplishments gone mostly unsung. People are remembered for their volunteerism, for being loving parents, for serving their country. Too bad they're not around to read about themselves.
One memorable obit attempted to rectify this. It sticks to my bulletin board. J.D. Sharp was in his 90s, I'm guessing, when he died last year. His obit states, "His legacy is the inspiration he gave us and the amiable influence he had upon the lives of his associates. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you take a friend to lunch or dinner and tell him or her the things we often think of only after someone is gone."
I never knew J.D. Sharp, but he's one of the greatest guys I've ever met.
