Because no matter how many powers of attorney and documents you plan for and sign ahead of time, no matter how much folks say, “Well, there’s ways you can make it all the same” — someone’s going to balk.
As a same-sex couple living in Utah, Jody and Jess weren’t stupid. They knew they needed protection if their love was to count in the eyes of the state. So years ago, they met with an attorney to churn out legal documents. Jody gave Jess power of attorney and named Jess her representative after death.
[…] Jody died early Thanksgiving morning. She was 47.
Jess removed the catheter, the feeding tube and “got Jody looking more like Jody.” She then sat there, alone with her partner, and said goodbye.
It was Pam [Jody’s former girlfriend, a nurse, and a friend of the couple] who offered to call the mortuary that morning. The response she got left her, and Jess, stunned. “They wouldn’t even pick up her body,” Jess said between tears. “I was so . . . angry, I couldn’t breathe.”
After all they’d done, legal documents didn’t seem to matter. The mortuary required permission from “a blood relative” to retrieve Jody’s body, Pam was told.
Fortunately, Jody’s brother was available to call. And her mother, days later, faxed a consent form giving Jess full control of arrangements. Had Jody’s mom insisted on a traditional burial and LDS service, all their plans would have been for naught or required court action.
Read the article. Anyone who tells me that Jody and Jess didn’t share a sacred bond that ought to be respected and recognized by our social and legal systems is missing something here.
(via Ginny)
Thanks for the tip ‘o the hat.
Now, there’s another aspect of life and death in Utah that I’m reminded of. This requirement for a blood relative to give permission may have some basis in religious belief. Which, again, serves to punish the unbelievers, much as it punishes the “sinful” who don’t conform to the “married man, woman and their children” family model.
When my mom died last summer, my two sisters and I all had to sign the papers for her to be cremated (which was her last and dearest wish). If any of us had balked for reasons of religion, no cremation. I held my breath at one moment because I realized that one of my sisters has some rather unusual beliefs, like believing fully in the concept of the Rapture and people being raised up at the Second Coming with or without missing limbs and organs. But, sign she did and all was well.
Another family member who wished to be cremated and have his ashes scattered at the family cabin up Lambs Canyon didn’t get his wish, because one of his surviving children refused to sign the papers. She wanted her children to be able to visit their grandfather’s grave, and to have a gravestone to boot. She is one of several family members who share a belief that the body must be intact in order to be ready to be resurrected or something. So they went through the whole rigamarole of the open-casket viewing and making little kids say goodbye with touching the body, and the rest of the family (infidels all, and knowing of her dad’s wishes in the matter) were just miserable about it.
It’s a shame, because the ashes of his father, and of his nephew, are up at the cabin. They are no doubt having a fine old time blowing in the mountain air, while my cousin is stuck in a boring old cemetery with a bunch of stiffs, getting mowed every week.
At some point this summer, Mom will be scattered near a certain scenic overlook on US 40 between Steamboat and Rabbit Ears Pass, where Pop’s ashes were scattered long ago. It was their favorite place to stop for a smooch.
That’s very sweet.
On the one hand, I have irrational and sentimental attachment for some sort of memorial marker — but at least I admit it’s for *me*, not the departed (who presumably are on to much more important and interesting things, regardless of where their previous atoms are sited).
I’m with Lou Grant: I don’t want anybody making a fuss. I just want to be stood out with the garbage with my hat on.
(My apologies if this trivializes the situation. It just neatly sums up my feelings, and it cracked me up the first time I saw that episode. Hope everybody takes it in the intended spirit.)
Not at all.
As for me, I want a huge granite and marble memorial, festooned with sculptures of weeping angels and the like. And a visitors center. With interactive exhibits. And a roller coaster.