Obits evolve in changing times

When change comes to the Shenandoah Valley, you can be pretty sure there has been a sea change in American culture. People here thrive on tradition. They have a deep and abiding suspicion that the past holds more promise than the future. So I sat up and took notice when obituaries changed the way they listed survivors of the deceased.

When I was growing up, only family members were listed as survivors. Best friends were not listed no matter how loyal and loving. Relatives were listed even if they were not on speaking terms with the dearly departed. The obituary was about blood, not friendship. That has changed.

Maybe you've noticed that "a special friend" is frequently in the list of survivors. I am never sure what this term means. Sometimes, it is clearly a euphemism for a romantic relationship. When my widowed uncle died in his 80s, the family listed a special friend. That would not have happened a decade earlier. Nor would anyone have listed a fiancé. If you had not been down the aisle, it did not count, neither in the obituary nor with the IRS. The IRS hasn't changed, but the obituary business has. Romantic partners, good buddies and honorary aunts and uncles are now worthy of inclusion.

Years ago, no one would have thought to list pets as survivors. That taboo is gone as well. Gerald Humbertson is survived by his beloved hound Otto with whom he spent many happy hours tramping through the woods. Dogs are much more likely to be listed than cats or birds. It makes the news when rich eccentrics leave their pets millions of dollars, but even us humbler folk think our non-human friends deserve a mention in the final summing up reported in the paper. That is a change.

Hobbies are more likely to be listed than they used to be. People want it a matter of public record that Sally grew roses or played the fiddle or baked the best apple pies in a four-county area. Joe might have been an avid fly fisherman or grill master.

Church affiliations are tapering off as church membership falls, and if the person was not a church member, people feel less compelled to try to establish some relationship with Jesus as in, He was a Protestant by faith. One old Methodist minister called that practice "naming the church he stayed away from." Alongside organizations, the deceased might have belonged to (the Masons, Oddfellows, Elks, Moose, Rotary, Ruritans, Garden Club), we find devotion to the Washington Redskins or a particular NASCAR driver or even commercially-produced products like Harleys. I have never seen a beverage listed, however. No matter how much the guy liked Budweiser, I have never seen, He loved his Bud Light and drank a six-pack every night. 

Testimonies to the devotion of the deceased to motherhood are more fulsome than we have seen since Victorian times. Fathers sometimes get lauded as well. Saints abound on the obituary page. None of this dry, matter-of-fact listing of worldly accomplishments. Obituaries have come to read more like eulogies than newspaper reports of deaths. There used to be little difference in the style of obituaries done by journalists for prominent people and the style used in the obit section done by families and submitted by funeral homes. The gap is now gaping.

I am not sure what all this says about us, but it has gotten me to thinking about my own obituary. I want it to make me sound interesting, even eccentric. I want it to make people laugh, make them wish they had known this character. It should be entertaining, and some of the stuff might even be true, but people should be left wondering. Let them sort it out for themselves. My hound does not deserve to be included, and I am woefully short on hobbies. "She liked to read" just doesn't have the right ring to it. Who is sorry about the loss of a reader- (Aside from book publishers and librarians.) I have come to realize that if I am going to have an interesting obituary, I am going to have to start living a much more colorful life. That is my new standard for deciding what to do with my life: Will this make me look fascinating on the obituary page- It's the old person's version of resume building. I'm looking into trapeze lessons.

Patricia Hunt is a Mary Baldwin College chaplain and Staunton resident.