There are two types of people in the world: Those who read the obituaries, and those who don’t.
I’m firmly in the obit-reading camp. I sit at the breakfast table, coffee mug in hand, and pore over the narrow columns and black-and-white photos. More often than not, I reach for tissues and wipe away tears for people I have never met.
Now that I’ve written “I Brake for Moms” for six years, I’m in the peculiar position of knowing that some of the people I read about in the obituaries might have read my column. There’s a full-circle moment for me when I see their faces. They read about my life, and now I get to read about theirs.
I’ve wanted to write about The Daily Herald’s Obituaries and Memorials section for a long time, but I didn’t know how without seeming maudlin.
But then I read a line in the tribute to Peter M. Moody on June 13 that spoke to me so strongly that even now it inspires me. “For the rest of our lives we will search for moments full of you, to our family you are the world.” That line is everything. If you have lost a loved one, it will probably speak to you, too.
Obituaries tell the stories of the true heroes in our community — the extraordinary, everyday people who might never have made front-page news.
In the memorial section on June 13, I read about Delbert Lynn Crook who loved his wife, Deb Brady, and his Labrador, Gunnar — in that order. Tracy Turnupseed spent 23 years working at Fred Meyer and was a wonderful aunt. Margaret “Peggy” Katherine Follansbee Goldsmith was a world class cultivator of peonies, and her artwork for the Edmond’s Arts Festival is on permanent display. Reatha Lee taught for 31 years and made meaningful contributions to her church. Judith Pack (Anderson) Mills loved to dress her grandchildren up in OshKosh B’gosh.
I never had the privilege of meeting any of these people, but I miss them already.
The tributes that are the hardest for me to read — the ones that cut me to the core — are the memorials that begin with “Our darling daughter, you would have been 25 years old today” or “It’s been five years without our brother’s smile.” I have enormous respect for the people who honor their family members in this way. Their devotion is a physical presence right there in newsprint. Their love is contagious.
Bad guys don’t get obituaries, not in the memorial section at least. Obituaries are everlasting love put into words, a family’s public acknowledgement of a soul that will be missed. When I read an obituary, I know it’s for a person who mattered. Sure, maybe they made some mistakes in their lives — haven’t we all? But their lives mattered.
Someone missed them enough to contact the newspaper. Now that’s a life well-lived.
Jennifer Bardsley is author of the books “Genesis Girl” and “Damaged Goods.” Find her online on Instagram @the_ya_gal, on Twitter @jennbardsley or on Facebook as The YA Gal.
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