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Todd Van Beck's picture

That time of year again

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Georgia and I just returned from participating in the Wreath Across American ceremony and activities at Arlington National Cemetery.

As I pondered this moving event I could not help but be reminded of the tremendous sacrifice that so many people have made so that I could possess the freedom to even pen these words.

I have always loved history, and particularly presidential history.  It is true all one has to do is study the lives and times of the United States presidents and at the same time one is studying the history of this great country.

As we walked the miles upon miles of roads in Arlington, I was not surprised in the least that the gravesites of the Kennedy brothers attracted a tremendous amount of attention.  Who can resist the “Eternal Flame” and the symbolism and story behind that American icon of freedom and the high price freedom exacts.

Thousands upon thousands of wreaths were laid on one gravestone after another.  In fact I was told that this year the Wreaths Across America program laid out more wreaths than they have ever done in their history.  This is good stuff to be sure.

However I was struck by the observation that here and there some gravestones did not have a wreath.  The monument that did not have a wreath which struck me the most was the impressive monument of another president of the United States, William Howard Taft.  There is no question that Taft was a tad out of place as president (he was by nature a jurist), but he was nonetheless a great American who holds the distinction as being the only American in history to hold the two highest offices in the U.S. government – namely president of the United States, and chief justice of the United States Supreme Court.

Close to Taft’s gravesite was yet another significant American whose grave had no wreath.  That person was Robert Todd Lincoln, who was the eldest son of Abraham Lincoln.

While it is true that in Arlington National Cemetery there is great evidence of what I call the democracy of death – in other words no one grave ranks higher than any other – it also seemed appropriate to take a moment to lay wreaths on the graves of these two Americans who both had contributed so much to the building of this country, but whose memories have faded with the veil of time in the history books. 

What does the ritualistic exercise of memorializing our dead accomplish?  I believe that ritualizing our dead accomplished two personal assets and attainments which are priceless to the betterment of the human spirit.  First, it gives a person peace of mind, and second, it give a person the feeling that they have done the right thing.

I know when I saw the graves of both President Taft and the son of the Great Emancipator without a wreath it gave me peace of mind, and a feeling of doing the right thing, when I laid those two beautiful, simple wreaths on these two men’s final resting places.

As I got on the plane to fly home, I had a warm feeling inside, and once again the magic of ritualization, the unexplainable significance of simple wreath laying, had worked. 

Such it is with ceremony: It is priceless and so effective to help us embrace things in our hearts and souls when mere words fail, and I did not say one word when I positioned those two evergreen wreaths.

Anyway, that is it for this old undertaker.  TVB

Todd Van Beck's picture

Grief and the holidays: The never ending story

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All my adult life, in fact even as a little kid, I knew funerals, ceremonies, rites, rituals, were terribly important.  As a child I did not understand one thing concerning the meaning behind rituals and ceremonies, but it did not make any difference at all, because I could feel the impact of the “happening,” and children do indeed love happenings.

Today, however, I have tried to lay down childish things, and have spent many years trying to pin down the meaning, the impact, the nuances, the panache, and psychology of what happens to people when they gather in a common cause such as a funeral.

Just over a week ago my wife and I held a Holiday Memorial Service for the entire community.  We had a large crowd.  A few of the staff were cynical, a few supportive, but then that’s life – is it not?

However, when the ritual of the Holiday Memorial Service took off, even the most cynical staff members (who had previously felt mighty put upon for being asked to work the service) were themselves moved by the magic, the metaphor, and the raw data of the ceremony.

As the ritual began, it was not the planning or the execution of the event which held the meaning – it was the behavior and response of the human beings who attended which held the meaning of the ritual, which is true of all rituals.

The impact of this type of ceremony is that even the slowest, dullest, and intellectually challenged person understood what was going on.  I believe this is one of the cardinal beauties of all rituals.  The simplest is the best.

I remember three gentlemen arriving, and they were, in my opinion, a rough bunch.  They were unshaven, all three had dental problems, their cloths were worn, they were socially awkward, and they seem ill at ease, until the ritual began.  Then they were all at high attention, they had tears streaming down their faces, and the looks on the faces told the universal truth that grief is grief, and pain is pain across the globe.

In fact the events of this one evening once again reaffirmed in my mind and soul the terribly important meaning of rituals and ceremonies; in fact I am of the thinking that communities can not actually survive with good mental health without rituals and ceremonies.

It seems to me the bedrock foundation of our grand, great and noble profession.

Anyway that is one old undertaker’s opinion.  TVB

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