Most people reach a point in their lives when they start reading obituaries. This happens because we all want to cull our Christmas card lists. As we age and we find ourselves on fixed incomes just as the cost of postage continues to spiral out of control, it’s important to keep those lists current.
I’ve been a daily reader of the obits now for a good decade or so and I’ve developed some theories on how to write a good one. Let me share.
Give us the basics. I wrote a biography of Gov. Tony Earl and, in my research, I found obituaries invaluable. They used to follow what seemed like a proscribed form. Dates of birth and death, cause of death. parents, siblings, spouses, children, employment, etc. You never know when you might pop up as a footnote to history and including that data in your obit will do the researchers a favor. Even more likely, you may well have a genealogist in your family’s future and they’ll be grateful. It’s even possible that your cause of death might help a relative figure out a serious medical condition. I’ve noticed that modern obits almost always omit a specific cause of death. Unless you’re a candidate for a Darwin Award, I’m not sure why. Tell us why you’re gone now.
Give us something interesting. Whenever I read an obit and I’m told that the guy was “an avid Packers and Badgers fan” I think to myself ‘that’s the best you can do?’ Being a fan of the Green Bay Packers hardly distinguishes the person from anybody. else in Wisconsin. In the Luke Fickell era, continuing to be a Badger fan may be more of a distinguishing factor and it might even speak to a certain level of loyalty, endurance and overall scrappiness. But unless the information is specific to the sport, they might have been a Badger volleyball fan and how hard is that?
I recently read an obit for the mother of one of our closest friends. It was excellent all around, but it contained this story. When she was young her parents forced her to go on a date with the son of a family friend, whom she had never met. She was so furious about it that she insisted the guy take her to the Edgewater, even then the fanciest restaurant in town. She met him in the lobby, liked him instantly and… ordered nothing more than a Coke. They were married for 71 years. Now, that’s a great story because it speaks volumes about the kind of people these were. Everybody’s got a simple story something like that. Find it and tell it. Embellish it a little if you have to.
A good obit is short. The obit I mention above was unusual, not just for being so entertaining and so insightful about the person, but also because it was the rare long obit that kept my interest from start to finish. Most long obits are written to match the deceased’s ego. They tend to detail every move in the career of a middle manager who thought he should have been the CEO and they tend to hoover up credit for every accomplishment that came within a mile of the guy. Keep it snappy. I’ve written my own obit and it comes in at a crisp 392 words. I’ll keep working on it with the goal of getting it under 300.
A good obit is honest. We naturally tend to highlight a person’s good points in an obit. Understandable, but also not usually very interesting. People are complex and presenting at least a somewhat balanced portrayal is, I think, actually a sign of respect. I once attended the funeral of a prominent Madison community leader whose teenage son got up in front of a packed church and started his eulogy with, “My father was a cruel man.” Wow. Now, that’s an opening line. He had me from the get go. And, by the way, I knew this guy. He was absolutely charming and he made some fine contributions to the community, but I could see how he might have put his career ahead of his family. Anyway, his son’s ripping eulogy didn’t make me think less of him. I thought he was a real human being. And I thought he had raised an insightful, poised, honest and courageous young man. He might have been cruel, but he did something right.
A good obit comes with a decent picture. I agree with Sean Duffy that people dress like crap on air planes and it wouldn’t kill a guy to put on a nice pair of khakies and a polo shirt. Skeechers are comfortable and mildly fashionable in an old guy from the Midwest kind of way. You can pick up that ensemble at Costco for something like $45, if that. Many obit pictures show the guy in a ratty Badgers sweatshirt. Really? That was his best foot forward?
Finally, everyone should HAVE an obituary. It seems to be a trend not to file one with the local newspaper. Maybe that’s the family trying to avoid the cost. Maybe it’s because people now rely on social media to get the word out. I don’t know. But it’s important to have some enduring public record of your death because that also records the fact that you had lived. We all should be dying to get our names in the paper.
So, get to work on your final words, people. And may you have many years to refine the draft.
Yellow Stripes & Dead Armadillos 