My grandchildren have, through the aid of digital creation, more photos of them in their few years than I have had in my many years. But due to the age I am, more of mine were taken on a camera and printed on paper and not subject to cloud storage. In my office at home I have a large cardboard box of photos given me by my brother from the drawers and nooks and crannies of my parents home. He has already gleaned through them to keep what he wants and now he has given me the same opportunity. I have already looked through them a couple of times. They are storied journeys through my past and through the past of my family. There are many folks in those photos who have been dead and gone for many years and, I confess, many whose names I no longer recall -- even if their faces are familiar. They are real. I will eventually dispose of them but for now I keep them and in keeping them am keeping their subjects alive -- at least within my own mind.
I have to admit that I am not sure what to think of our digital realities. They do not collect dust in old cardboard boxes but neither do they exist outside the screens on which they live when we turn them on and scroll down to them. That is not an improvement, I think. Our lives are fragile enough without consigning them to an off button or a delete button. The screens only amplify how transient and fragile our lives have become through the aid of our technology. Improvement? Not in my mind. The paper prints may fade or wrinkle or fold but they are real in a way that the digital stuff is not. And not only photos.
Sadly, the practice today is to either omit or make as brief and nondescript as possible obituaries. It is as if we are in a rush to erase the lives of those who lived. As bad as that is, I absolutely hate the practice of disposing of ashes by casting them into the wind or sea of the favorite spots of the person whose body was once more than ashes or dust. It is as if they never existed. Then, without a tombstone, we go it even further by leaving them without any sort of permanent resting place. The burials at sea and such in the past were done not as best practice but as something born of necessity, a compromise at best. Now we are no longer compromising. We are choosing to eliminate the casket and burial and gravestone by throwing into the wind all the earthly remains of our loved ones. Is it an improvement? Cheap, yes, and easy, but better? I certainly do not wish to line the pockets of the funeral industry and decry what that has become with a charge for every service that makes it necessary to take a second mortgage to take care of the remains of your loved ones. There must be a better way than a $15-20,000 funeral and burial package complete with $1500 of flowers to show the world how much the one dead was loved. But choosing to live with a means of dealing with the dead that casts them to the wind is not the solution. Perhaps next we will all be born with a delete button to take care of all the loose ends when we want to check out or our loved ones want to be done with us. I hate it. Give me a body, casket, wake, church funeral, and burial any day of the week. And real photos. Not just a screen where you have to wait for the brief blip of an image until it fades into another -- all before you have had a chance to really look at it. Real photos, too.
I could say the same for screens on church walls instead of hymnals, websites with newsletter sections instead of printed newsletters, and QR codes for seemingly everything. We can tell ourselves all day long that such things are real but as soon as you turn them off, delete them, or stop paying for the cloud storage, they are gone. How sad!





