October Newsletter

I am a fan of stand-up comedy and one comedian I enjoy is Rob Delaney. He is not for the faint of heart as he pushes many envelopes and is quite gritty. A few years back he disappeared from stand-up which caused me to search for him. He was working on a show in London, and I learned that he and his wife, Leah, had lived through the unbearable loss of their two-year-old son Henry to brain cancer in 2018. They experienced the insufferable death of their precious sweet bundle of joy, and the cruel reality that we are not in charge of what happens to us and those we love. After the death of my husband (almost 10 years ago) I found reading about loss experiences of others to be a comfort. It may seem odd or like I was seeking out more pain and suffering, but really what I was searching for was company, I was tired of feeling alone in my grief. Books like Delaney’s make me feel less isolated. Delaney wrote about the experience in A Heart That Works in 2022. Should you choose this book, buckle up as it is not easy on the eyes or ears and yet I can imagine for some it might bring inexplicable comfort for those who have experienced a loss like his. He gives voice to a painful and true-life event that happens to families across the globe that are often relegated to pediatric hospitals, hospices facilities, and private homes. I appreciate and applaud his bravery for letting us into his tender, vulnerable, and intimate life. Delaney has definite opinions about the world in which we live, especially around healthcare in the US and he makes no bones about it in his real-life comparison to the free public healthcare accessible to all residents in the UK, where his family lives. He swears a lot and if that bothers you, I recommend you pass on this short work of art and testament to his love for family and especially for his late son Henry. Some of the descriptions are hard to witness about the medical aspects of Henry’s illness, treatment, and death. Delaney’s candor is both arresting and refreshing, he does not mince words or worry about you as a reader. He paints a realistic picture of the devastating and overwhelming experiences of hospital life with a toddler struggling through brain cancer and tempers it with effortless gratitude and grace. Delaney, originally from New England, is now in his late ‘40s and has struggled with depression and alcoholism in his life. In this book, he is able to shine a light for us on lessons that surface about life and death. His humanity is raw and unedited, and he shares it with those of us who decide to witness it. If you take a risk listening to or reading his memoir let us know what you think.

Now, there might be a new option for the eco-conscious

We have decided to add a book review section to our newsletter upon occasion that relates to themes around death, dying, and bereavement. I did not quite realize exactly how many books are related to these topics. I thought I would have to search harder, but the books keep falling across my path.  Recently, I was playing Wingspan online with a friend who lives in Washington State, and she mentioned the book she was currently reading. She and I often enjoy the same books, so I knew I had to reserve Maybe You Should Talk to Somone by Lori Gottlieb through the Libby library app. This book is considered a genre I have never seen before: Memoir/Self-Help. I wholeheartedly agree with this label. I felt entertained, deeply moved, and self-reflective. I was never bored, and it was challenging to motivate myself to do things other than read this 835-page tome. Since I read the last page, I miss the author’s voice and the clients she so thoroughly captures on the pages. Gottlieb toggles back and forth throughout the book between her own individual therapy after an unexpected break-up (loss again!), as well as the clients she sees in her private practice. It is such a pleasure to see all the people depicted change and grow even when those changes are tiny. We follow the story of a young cancer patient and all the loss that follows such a journey. We are stunned to see the death of a child in a car accident and the grief of the surviving parents. We see people who are emotionally inaccessible become less armored and why they put on defenses in the first place. We see people who have lived long lives riddled with mistakes and the hurt that is sometimes born from them. We see people grow up and take responsibility for their own actions or inaction. We see people own their emotional baggage and turn their lives around. Ultimately this is a book about finding meaning in all our moments no matter how close we are to our own mortality. Many people wonder how we who work in funeral service can do what we do each day; they wonder if it is too depressing. For me it is often sad and reminds me how important it is to choose life and to live each moment as we don’t know how long we get. Working with death and the bereaved helps me to remember how critical it is to make positive use of my time on earth. I am working towards being less afraid that my life is likely more than half over. This work has me thinking about my bucket list, what is on yours? Following the next funeral, memorial, or celebration of life you attend I invite you to really reflect on how you are living your one precious life, right now. Thanks, Mary Oliver. I hope you will consider reading. Maybe You Should Talk to Someone to give you a little perspective. You know what they say, use it or lose it.

Why? You might say.

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How each person defines “all taken care of” has quite a range and on one end of the spectrum is practically nothing is planned and the other every “i” is dotted and each “t” is crossed.

Memorial Funeral Homes & St. Lucy’s Catholic Church are proud to announce a local stop for the Wreaths Across America Mobile Education Exhibit national tour.

Memorial Funeral Home will host its annual showing of “Elf” at the Jane Pickens Theater on December 15th at 2pm! Doors will open at 1pm and entry is free with a donation of non-perishable food items for the Martin Luther King Jr. Center.

There’s no definitive answer on when, exactly, humans started to bury their own people–spouses, siblings, parents–because burial sites were hardly preserved.