Connections: Final Words

The editorial staff at The Star, who share the responsibility of gathering information for and writing obituaries, consider it a high calling. It has been our mission to portray each life of someone in this community as fully as possible, and, over the years, our obituaries — be they of a person of renown or someone known only to those near to them — have achieved significant recognition. We feel bad if we are unable to present a decent portrait of someone who has lived among us and died. 

Novice reporters often have to steel themselves when making phone calls to the bereaved, afraid to intrude or say the wrong thing, but the discomfort is usually only on their end: A family member or friend is often quite comfortable answering questions, and even gratified to share memories and let the world know more.

One of the challenges of obituary-writing is that the cause of death has traditionally been a basic element that must be included in the story, and that discussion can be a tricky one. Sometimes a reference to no more than a short or long illness suffices; at other times an immediate cause, such as an accident, is necessary. As a matter of journalistic ethics, we cannot simply leave out a cause of death, in most instances, but the extent to which it is described publicly depends on how the bereaved feel about it. They may not want it known when the cause of death is suicide or, more commonly, an unusual illness. I’ve been around long enough to remember when some families felt there was a stigma attached to admitting that someone had died of cancer. The more recent tendency to avoid acknowledging Alzheimer’s or AIDS — yes, sadly, still — seems to have eclipsed that concern.

But when is it appropriate to leave out a cause of death of someone who was among the very elderly? That is another delicate issue. Writing that someone died of “natural causes” is a clichéd and rather euphemistic way of avoiding the words “old age.” The latter doesn’t sound very nice, though, does it? 

Some members of the staff think all we have to do is choose an age, 90, for example, after which it is no longer necessary to include the cause of death. I argue otherwise. I reply that I have a 92-year-old friend who is more robust than I, and that it would be unfortunate to simply assume her cause of death was no longer a part of her life story.

The advent of technology has had a salutary effect on all this. Many people find it a bit easier to commit information to a computer and it send along via email, rather than in conversation. We also send out a form that helps organize the task for anyone who asks. There are pitfalls to this updated process, of course: Once a family member or friend has put a life into words, in filling out this form, they are not always pleased to see their words altered or paraphrased during the editing process (as a life story is made to conform to the necessary rules governing newspapering).

What I want to tell you is that we do our best when writing obituaries, and I hope to encourage people to feel free to provide as many details as they wish when telling us about a life lost. We, all of us, lead lives of richness and interest; there’s no such thing as an average life. All this is worth thinking about, I believe; after all, we will all be among those on the pages, someday.