Still dead, but no longer forgotten

The New York Times has unveiled a new feature, about women who were overlooked—not given obituaries in the Times—when they died. Look it over.

Of the twenty or so death notices in our everyday local paper, more than half of them give just a couple of lines to the actual deceased, and the rest to the survivors and the arrangements being made.

“Nobody puts your name in the paper until you die,” to quote Big Daddy in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” but when that time comes, shouldn’t it be more than just a name? It’s you that’s had the life; as for the others, their time will come. You’ve been the hero of your own life, and it’s time for you to claim your just rewards.

So why do so many obituaries give such short shrift to the dearly departed?

For one thing, you need time and tranquility to adequately sum up a person’s life. Perspective is what is required, and grief can cloud the long view. And then, sometimes, when there’s so much to say, any words at all can seem threadbare.

Why put your friends and loved ones through that? Why not write your own obituary? (You could update it regularly, as things change and you linger longer.) After all, who better knows the details—and, what’s more, the meaning—of your life than you? Of course, you probably won’t manage to be objective, but what obituary-writer ever is? When you die, everybody says nice things about you, but a lot of good that does you now. Why not go ahead and write up all those things you hope people will say, and have the pleasure of reading them?

You can leave a unique legacy—your voice from beyond the grave. And since you’ll be speaking from there, so to speak, you can say what you’ve always wanted to say, without fear of comment or reprisal. (Your obit need not be all about you.)

Everyone’s life is a story. The dead should be honored, just for having lived. A proper obituary is an act of justice, and you can make sure justice is served.