The "Cremains" of the Day, or, Funeral Games

Two days of back-and-forth by phone and e-mail with Woodlawn Cemetery.  They offered space in their newest mausoleum - the one with waterfalls, statuary, climate control and lounges.  I was tempted to ask about guest rooms but didn't.  More on this below.

The price was astonishing.  The price at the neighboring, not-quite-so-over-the-top mausoleum was marginally less astonishing, though just by a few hundred dollars.  That's the one I picked.  The clincher wasn't price so much as location (I was right - it's a real estate thing).  At the Ultimate Mausoleum, my parents would be placed side by side... 10 feet up the wall.  At the Lesser Mausoleum, they'll be roughly at knee level.  Knee level wins it.  At least you can reach out and touch them, or at least you can touch their engraved granite facings.  That's better.  I don't want to have them out of reach.  Maybe it's also that I don't want to look up to them anymore.  But Lesser Mausoleum wins it.  I'm assured it's very nice in its own right.

About the price... without going into details, let's just say that the combined cost of the Maryland funeral and the Bronx in-urn-ment now comes to two month's stay at my father's nursing home.  Does it sound like I'm being taken for a ride?  It should, because I am.  I'm sure there's no basis in fact for most of these charges.  But what am I going to do at this stage - comparison shop?  Of course, that's what I should have done.  But until my father developed his first pneumonia in mid-January, I was operating in a different mode.  I was trying to hold onto every dollar, against the chance (remote, but still not zero) that I'd have to pay for his care all the way to his Medicaid qualification date in October 2012.  A prepaid funeral didn't exactly fit with that. 

Once he went onto hospice, it was a different story, and I should have done something.  But I was preoccupied with dental surgery and my two flus and haggling over death and God with Dr. H.  I'd actually written a note to myself to start contacting funeral homes on Monday, February 1.  But I came down with the second flu the night before, and decided to put off the research for a few days.  Then there was the blizzard and the power outage, and when my father went, he went in about eight hours, and here we are.  I tell myself it's not nearly as bad as it could be.  What if he'd outlived all his funds, and then we had to bury him?  How would we do it?  I suddenly understand why people scatter ashes, or keep them at home on the shelf.  But where would I scatter him?  West End Avenue?  I'm guessing the police would object.  The Tidal Basin, in honor of his Coast Guard years?  Can't do that, it's federal land.  The ocean?  That might work, he loved the ocean.  So if I think better of the current arrangements, the ocean is a possibility.  A nice setting, as long as the wind is right...

Woodlawn is sending its own set of contracts and authorizations.  Among other things, there's an Disinterment Affidavit for my mother.  Understandably, they don't like moving their residents around without formal permission.  And they've instructed me that, when I go up there the week after next, I'm to bring the "cremains" with me.  Yes, they actually call them "cremains" - though thankfully, they call the process an interment, not an in-urn-ment.  That's a Maryland thing.  If they'd told me to bring the "cremains" for "inurnment," I'd probably have gotten violent.

How am I feeling?  Like it's on par with our family funeral experiences.  By our standards, nothing extreme is going on.  Though I'll admit that the description of Woodlawn's deluxe option reminds me of a story my father used to tell.  Back in the 1930's, when he was a child, there was a family friend who used to visit regularly.  I don't know what the relationship was, and the visitor was supposed to have been a boring, self-involved person, but they put up with him for some reason.  One Saturday afternoon he showed up with a sheaf of blueprints, and spent a couple of hours going over them in detail.  My grandmother tried to pay attention but couldn't, and wandered off mentally to think about other things.  She was brought back to reality by the guest who said, insistently, "So what do you think?"

My grandmother tried to recover.  "It's a lovely house," she said.  "When are you moving in?"

There was a wounded cry.  "It's not a house!" the guest said.  "It's a mausoleum!"

The story came back to me at roughly the same instant that I found myself wondering whether Woodlawn's top-end facility - the one with the waterfalls - had guest rooms, too. 

Tomorrow morning my wife and I will head up to the funeral home and try to restore some dignity to the proceedings.
 

Comments

[Karen]

Alan-
I live outside Chicago.My parents were born and married in Michigan. Shortly before my Dad died we drove him to Michigan to see all the places he wanted to see again before he died. We were in Holland Mi along lake Michigan, Dad and Mother were reminiscing about dancing there in Holland to the big bands. That's where they fell in love. Not long after that trip he died and was cremated. After my Mom passed last January my sisters and I had to decide what to do with their cremains.Long story but my sisters and I spent the weekend in Holland Mi and scattered their ashes in Lake Mi. I know this is against the law but I also know that is where my parents were the happiest. I feel good about it everyday. Just thought I'd share. Death is a extremely personal thing and there is no right or wrong. You are doing great.

[Shu]

Hmm. Hard to say more than the written equivalent of . I still have a four- figure amount left to pay on Snowy's funeral expenses [biting lip to avoid comment about my sibling] and that is fun to work with in my current status. Still I've personally (since I was a child when visiting my grandfather's grave at an elegant old cemetary that had the gorgeous old mausoleums) always wished I could have one of those 6- or so "bed" mausoleums with an ornate New Orleans style, iron gates and grills, and gorgeous stained glass. With such waiting for me I thought I could manage any fears of death. Ha. Not likely!

Hope you all manage these last transitions with a minimum of challenge and frustration and bruised sadness.

Empathetically,
Shu

[Nancy Frank]

You've moved beyond location, location, location. You've landed in surreal estate.

I'll save my story for another time -- but if you happen to be near my nabe, I'd be happy to take you and your wife out for the drink you will surely need when this is done.

[Jgemacher.wordpress.com]

Alan, hope your day goes smoothly.

[Kim Bledsoe]

Alan you are almost at the finish line..I wish you peace in your heart and the knowledge that you have been a wonderful son. I thank you for sharing as I will have to go through this one day and you are providing a light. Thank you and may God bless you and give your strength. I am so glad your father is free of this god awful disease. Bless you all!

peace,
kim