DEATH CAFES! (What? Never heard of 'em?)

I have to admit, neither had I. Which seems really funny to me now, because it's one of the many things my mom had come across in her home-directed learning as my impromptu classmate where she actually said "I'm sure you've already heard about.." when mentioning the concept of Death Cafes. Side note: I have been very indignant about things my mom would link to me about this course if I had already learned about them in class (or just generally). Like "OMG MAAAAM I knowwwwww, that stuff is like, soooooo last week's lecture" because I didn't want to feel inferior in my learning when in competition with her sick internet skillzzzzz. So it was a nice little surprise when she threw something new into the mix whilst also stroking my ego and suggesting I would already be learned on the topic.

Obviously I had to play catch-up here, so this is what I've learned:

Death Cafes are essentially our class, the Archeaology of Death, interpolated into real life. Maybe with a little less archaeology and a little more social and cultural anthropology, but surprisingly the overall scheme and topics aren't too far off. They've discussed cultural ideas of death, what to expect in the afterlife, what your ideal funeral would be, alternative burial options.. you name it, someone has probably mentioned it. Death Cafes are community meetings where people of all demographics come together to discuss thoughts about death. They are an open mic night for people to share their interpretation, expectation, or cultural manifestation of death in its full glory. They are a support meeting, or an info night, or an extension on the conversations you have among your friends. They have tea. And home baked goods. And tea. Nothing like creating a familiar and comfortable environment for complete strangers to bond over the inevitability of death.

From the Calgary Herald - Calgary's first death cafe!

There was one held recently in Calgary (March 10th), which I think is how my mom came to know about them. There was a full article in The Calgary Herald to create awareness - very cool. This news article from the Times Colonist indicates that monthly death cafes are currently being held in Victoria (for a 6 month spin).

I think these things are a genius idea, especially in our culture where the melting pot effect has caused us to feel a disconnect between one another on the topic of death and a bit of confusion on where we stand with ourselves on the matter. Our cultures have overlapped such that ideas of death are confusing because they conflict so much. What better than to share them then, my dear?

I would therefore like to share with you two stories from within my social circle. One refers to the experience my father had at a funeral held for the tragic death of a past colleague, the other to the experience of a friend, Dale, surrounding the accidental discovery of an underground burial zone in Victoria. Both are aware that their stories are being shared on the internet, though I'm not sure of the span of audience they will reach will be very high.

In an email from my dad (some portions removed due to unnecessary or private information):

"On the Thursday, there was a viewing and family visitation from 3pm to 9pm for the day prior to the Pradeep ______ memorial service on Friday morning...The viewing I found surreal - Pradeep's mother, Dawn (Pradeep's wife), her mother and her sister sat in a front row of seats facing the coffin with the displayed body. I was there for about 90 minutes - most of them never left the seats duing that period of time. Twice Dawn got up and stood over the coffin - I admit I could not figure out from her expression if she was "pissed" or grieving - probably both?

Pradeep was 44 years old - I had met him in Toronto in 1998 (presented at one of his accounts - Hudson's Bay with considerable success) and when he moved to Detroit in 2000 he was the primary mover to tieing my competitive career to Central US demographic. I was under the misconception that most people with heart attacks survived.... I was thinking Pradeep must have been stranded alone and never got quick enough assistance. Not the case, as he had been talking to friends - walked back to his garage to go shopping, collapsed in open view, 911 called immediately and ambulance hospital minutes away. Just a massive heart attack that put him on life support - little signs of brain activity and taken off life support after a couple of days and passed away within 12 hours of coming off life support. 

One of the surprises for me was the "low" attendance at the memorial service - although the weather there that day was similar to our weather yesterday. Saw many 180s/360s performed on the Detroit area roads on the way to the funeral home. The last IBM funeral I went to had hundreds in attendance - I think the [large distances and length of time spent away] have increased a lack of IBM community feeling as approximately 100 people in attendance with most being neighbors and friends. Did not see many of the IBMers I would have thought would be there - but for many of them, IBM might stand for I've Been Moved. A couple of people I reached out to were in China (now one of IBM's biggest markets) and unable to get back. 

The service was not upbeat (although the material for most part was) - the circumstances were probably too tragic for many of the people who talked about Pradeep for a "ceremony of life" to come off. It was a very sad day - at the finish of the memorial, the exit route was a walk by the open coffin to view for the last time. I cannot remember the last memorial (funeral) I was at where viewing seemed central to the service. My impression is that dead bodies rarely remind one helpfully of the vibrant personalities that had inhabited the body. There was a reception after that I attended, but did not stay long as was mostly people I did not know personally."

My dad at I at my cousin's wedding. Now THAT'S a celebration of life.

I have to admit, this email made me cry. I have accompanied my dad at both services held for his mom and my grandma, as well as the funeral held for my mom's dad, my grandpa. I am the second youngest of a family of four, but I was the only one of my siblings to drive with my dad, my cousin, and my uncle to Prince Albert, Saskatchewan for my grandma's second service. (Everyone else likely had scheduling conflicts, but I like to think I was brought along also because I'm the especially empathetic one, and I give good hugs). I was so sad in reading this email that I couldn't have been there with my dad at such a sad service. I know that my dad worries about heart attacks a lot in reference to his brothers because cardiovascular issues run in the family, and some of my uncles are high risk. I can't imagine him being alone and picturing the funerals of one of my uncles within the context of this one. Tragedy strikes every day, and it really makes you reflect on your own life, and the lives of those you love. (I love you, pops.) It is comforting to know that I would consider everyone in my family quite privileged with the lives they lead and have lead, and the memories we have together and separately will, when they happen, lead to amazingly uplifting funeral services. Celebrations of life, fo sho!

Next, here is a copy of a facebook message I prompted a regular at my job, and subsequent friend of mine (Dale), to share with me about a previous conversation we'd had following one of his rehearsals. (He is a singer for choirs, theatre, and opera - I hope I have all that right).

In case you wanted to go see for yourself..

"We were rehearsing for a concert at Saint Andrew's Cathedral downtown. After dress rehearsal we needed to clear everything away because they were holding mass in the sanctuary between rehearsal and concert. The custodian was on duty, and I volunteered to help him out. Mostly this was just moving chairs around and stuff, but the music stands needed to get completely out of the way.

He grabbed a few and indicated that I should follow suit. He led the way down a tight, narrow spiral staircase into a room that didn't seem to connect to anywhere else. He said we could leave the music stands there, and started back up the stairs. Looking around, I saw three sarcophagi. I read the plaque on one, it said that he was a priest who had been murdered in the Yukon (possibly during the gold rush, but I'm not sure).

This was in the church across from the Capitol Six movie theatre.

I don't know a lot about Roman Catholic beliefs about corpses, but I know that at some of them believe (or possibly once believed?) that the bodies of saints had some sort of power associated with them (keeping them in reliquaries, and such). I wanted to read all about the people in the sarcophagi and find out if that's why their remains were transported (at least one from as far away as the Yukon) and preserved. Sadly, there was more work to be done and I didn't get a chance.

...I was curious. I was also surprised to find dead people being stored in a building, but I remembered that there are a few gravestones in front of the church (right on Blanshard St.) so I figured that they must already be zoned for it."

This story blew my mind when he mentioned it in person one night at the restaurant I work at. I'm in a class about death and had just finished a monument analysis of Pioneer Square, one of the most poorly understood grave sites in the city, and I was still boggled by the fact that there are dead people in the basement of a downtown building. And a basement that combines human tomb with storage space. How resourceful! I asked him to recount it for me, and I'm especially thrilled by his afterthought to place the church in context of a popular downtown movie theatre. It made the story all the more strange - there are 3 dead priests just a stones throw from where you just saw Life of Pi (not in 3D though, gotta go to the Odeon for that!).