In Repose Blog

Our Family's "Container" Part 3

Here is the photograph I snapped while leaving Mrs. Brackman's current house and my own long ago home. On its face it is a very unremarkable image. But to ME, its almost magical. Its not easy to see because of the trees, but this story is about that pink house in the middle, that, and a dream I had when I was 11.

First, a little background: As a child I saw many strange things. (Heck, I still see odd things but, thats a story for another day!) Mostly I saw them when I was alone, playing. Sometimes I saw them when my brother and I were playing together, and yes, he saw them too.  I had many dreams and an active imagination. I still do. (Just ask my husband.)

Sometimes when I was young I would tell my mom of the things I would see or hear or feel. Often, my mother would tell me I was just dreaming or imagining or whatever. She told me what I saw was not real. She would tell me my dreams were just dreams, and their story lines meaningless to reality.

I don't blame my mother for dampening my exuberance in describing some of these fantastic sights and experiences, its what most mothers would do, and rightly so.

But there were a few times I insisted she listen to me about what I saw or dreamed about. I wonder if she remembers this one! When I was about 11, and right before we moved from Kansas to this neighborhood in Florida I had a series of memorable, remarkable dreams.

I would have a dream and, in the next day or two, it would materialize in front of my eyes. It was never a dream about anything big or scary or important. It was almost always a very regular, mundane type of dream that would just happen to me in real life after the fact. It was quite amazing. I never knew which of my dreams would become real, there was no timing to them or special quality...nothing really at all, except they would as a film might, just repeat themselves in front of my eyes just as they had in my dream, much to my utter astonishment.

So back to the story: When my mother and father went ahead to Florida to find a home for us, my brother and I stayed in Kansas with friends. While my parents were gone I had this dream of a house. It was very detailed and I could not wait to tell my mom. I knew it was likely to be one of the precognitive dreams (although at the time I had no word for such a thing) I had been having. I was sure I dreamed about our new home!

My mother called us when they picked out a house. She started to tell me about it over the phone. I stopped her before she even started. I told her that I dreamed about the house and I already knew what it looked like and I was going to prove to her I was having dreams that would come true.  I told her to wait to tell me any details until I told her about the dream I had about our new house.

I described the dream. I said, it was night time and dark. I said, there was a door on the right side of a V shaped roofline where one side was rocks in a jumble and the other was wood with a door, and the door was orange. I said there was a yellow light next to the door and also two similar lights by the garage door. I said there was one square window between these two doors and there was a little brown dog that stayed by the front door and barked. I paused and waited. Then I asked my mom to describe our new house. She did, and of course she described something completely different. Our house, she said, was a white house on a high driveway, with a green door, no dog, an iron porch rail, nothing sounded like my dream at ALL.

I really felt defeated.

I was sure, just sure, that I had dreamed of the place that we were going to live. It was so real, so solid in my mind. I was crushed that I was not describing our house and also that I was not proven accurate with my "wild imagination" and dreams that became reality. But, I got over it.  I had other things to deal with. Leaving my home of 7 years, and my PONY whom I loved more than almost anything, at the age of 11 was not an easy thing to do. I put the dream out of my mind.

Until, that is, we drove up to our new home in Tampa in 1972. It was night time. We walked up the driveway and I got my first look at our new home. I remember being very tired and carrying at least one of our cats in a make-shift carrier of a pillowcase toward the front door. My parents busied themselves looking for the key. I turned around, just at the place where I took this photo and looked at the view from the front porch.

There, directly across the street was the house that I dreamed about. I remember the surprise registering in my belly while taking in the details. It is pink now, and the door is white, but in 1972 that house was brown. It had an orange door, and there was a little brown dog barking wildly that night at our car. He was barking at the new family on the block who just drove in from Kansas and who were bone-weary and unlocking the door to a new life in here in Florida.

As I recall I tried to point out to my mother that the house directly opposite of ours was the house I dreamed about, and the house I told her about.  I don't believe she paid much attention and of course she was tired too, and busy with umpteen other things any adult would be busy with when starting a new life in a new state in a new house.

I kept my thoughts pretty much to myself after that, but I have never, ever stopped paying attention to my dreams.

Our Family's "Container" Part 2

Mrs. Brackman was so kind and welcomed me, an utter stranger with a camera, right into her home, and smiled the entire time. I can't believe its because she remembered what I looked like. Thirty five years tends to change a person, especially if that person was only 12 at the time.

Happily, she was a trusting soul and I walked in, assuring her I would not take up much of her morning. I asked permission and took this photo almost immediately...So quickly as a matter of fact the original suffers a bit from camera shake.

My parents will find the photo interesting in that they can see the house has had some serious upgrades. Where there was once mediocre wall-to-wall shag carpet there now exists lovely tile and deep wood accents. Those stairs used to be carpeted as well. Shag was everywhere, it was the 70's you know.

The first thing I saw in my mind's eye was a late afternoon scene of long ago, the old RCA tv in the corner of the room playing Gilligan's Island or maybe The Brady Bunch Show and me and Randy laying around on the sofa or floor eating Doritos while the afternoon sun beamed in strongly from the patio door there on the right, probably just another day after school. I recalled Randy's laughter and some chasing games around this banister on the left, and generally good and easy times with bikes in the driveway and beach sand in our Keds and friends in the yard and meals on the dining room table behind me.

But then I allowed myself to really look at the stairs. These stairs are really very important to me. They represent proof to me of the soul's ability to exist apart from the human body.

There is a room down these two little stairs to the left. We used it as a den. It was there, 35 years ago where I laid very ill and something amazing happened to me. I blogged about it months ago, in this post called Are You Afraid to Die?

So standing there really was quite a culmination of feelings. This was our family home. This is where I played with my late brother whom I still miss with aching regularity.  This, though, this spot is the physical path my soul journeyed away from my body and absolutely proved to me that I could indeed exist without it, and so assures me that I have every reason to believe that I WILL see my brother again, and we all have a shot at existing without our physical selves.

It happened 35 years ago but I remember every tiny detail as vividly as any other in my life, and I will always believe now, in life after death.

Mrs. Brackman beamed a sweet smile and pat my arm gently as I wiped away the tears from my eyes and swallowed hard and sighed harder.

After thanks and goodbyes and as I walked to the rental car where Lauren was waiting for me I took one final photograph from a very specific place on the front porch. It has to do with another out-of-body experience that I had when I was 11. I will tell you about that one in my next post.

(To be continued...)

Our Family's "Container" Circa 1972

This Tampa Florida house was where my family lived for a short while in 1972-73. I was 11 and 12 years old at the time. My brother was 9 and 10. If you can make out the figures, thats me on the left in the photograph with my dog Toby and my friend Stephanie. The cat in the driveway was named Old Man.  (My dad still owns both of those cars, by the way.)

Traveling to Sarasota, my daughter and I flew into Tampa and I made sure to plan to save enough time to drive by the old house and neighborhood before getting to the airport for our return flight. Even though I had been back to Florida more than once, even living in Miami for a time in 1984, I had not seen this house since our family left it in 1973.

It was easy enough to find the house, and the neighborhood, while not bright and shiny new, certainly had not changed as much as it might have in 35 years. The sidewalks looked worn and the trees were bigger, but the yards were still mostly tidy and the streets quiet.

The house looked great. I think it was white when we first moved into it but my mom insisted on painting it yellow. I remember my late uncle Burshi helping with that large chore while he and my aunt Irmi came for a visit from Germany. The house was still very yellow and that made me smile. It was easily the nicest looking home on the block.

I planned on taking this photo and I hoped that somehow someone might be home if I knocked on the door.

Someone was.

The same woman who bought the  home from my parents all those years ago. Her name is Mrs. Brackman. And happily, she invited me inside, and when she did, I found myself transported back into time, and for a few minutes, I was 12 years old again.

(To be continued)

Family Heirloom

Charles Peavey's family had an unusual family heirloom; a mummified corpse of a baby. "Baby John" was lovingly passed down for generations. But a judge has ordered Baby John to be put to rest in burial because there is no DNA evidence proving kinship.

Say what? So as long as its a blood relative, New Hampshire is ok with its citizens collecting and drying dead babies?

Until police confiscated Baby John in 2006, the mummy had been on display on a bureau in the Peavey home. Relatives and friends reportedly treated the desiccated infant as a family member. He would get holiday cards and even gifts. One, he was given a dried fish.

Denying any "wierdness" going on, Peavey says he cannot afford the DNA testing the state required to be able to release the remains back to his family.

Peavey tried hard to keep "Baby John", believed to be the stillborn child of a great great uncle, in the family. "It's one of the few things from our family past that we have left. When I pass on, I was looking forward to passing  it on to another family member to keep some of the history for future family members."

Sheesh. What about an inheritance or even a stamp collection, dude?

--Thanks to Jo Dwyer for the newspaper clipping!

Hell Notes and Flowers: Offerings to the Dead

An article for In Repose, by Jamie Sue Austin

In the United States, like in much of the world, offerings or tributes to the dead are quite common. Wreaths and flowers laid across tombstones during Memorial Day are a form of ancestor worship we are all accustomed to. The term “ancestor worship” tends to dredge up images of primitive pagan cultures worshiping their grandfathers as God, but the practice of showing respect and honor to the dead is alive and well in the 21^st century. From candlelight vigils to roadside shrines, ancestor veneration (a more apt term) is all around us, and an integral part of society and the grieving process.

 

The intensity of belief in the power of ancestors to affect the physical living world varies from culture to culture. Offerings vary as well depending on the region. In the US flowers, wreaths, candles, even small plush animals or toys are common forms of tribute given to the dead. In the southern United States offerings of food, jewelry, and incense can be seen. Statues and monuments to the dead are common as well. In fact, some of our most famous national monuments, such as Mt. Rushmore and the Lincoln Memorial are colossal displays of ancestor veneration. Memorial Day is a nationally recognized holiday for honoring the dead. Easter, All Soul’s Day, and Candelmas are commonly respected days for ancestor veneration in the US as well.

Outside of the US ancestor veneration is just as common. In China, long thought of as a place of strong ancestral and filial ties, tributes to the dead come in a variety of forms. Depending on the belief system, some group offer tributes as a means of caring for their elders in the after life. Paper versions of common everyday objects are often burned as offerings to ancestors who in turn are believed to act as “guardian angels” by preventing serious misfortune. The belief that those who have passed before us are somehow looking over our shoulders and protecting us from harm is common even in the United States. A common Chinese offering is Joss paper, a form of spiritual money, burned to provide wealth for those living in the afterlife. Joss paper is often red or yellow with a foil stamp in the center.  Hell Notes are another form of spiritual money commonly used in China. They are bills, sometimes fashioned after western money, in excessively large denominations.  Aside from paper money, other objects are often offered to the dead such as paper mâché  cards, boats, houses, credit cards, and electronics. Incense, candles, and small food items often accompany these offerings. All through China and Singapore the Hungry Ghost Festival is celebrated, much in the way that Halloween is celebrated in the US, with the addition of offerings to the dead and lots of food. Vietnam has similar customs using incense, candles, and Hell Notes as offering. Often Vietnamese families will prepare large meals for family gatherings and as an offering to the dead.

Traditions of ancestor veneration are not confined to eastern societies. In Egypt the influence of ancestors is very great. Large, expensive tombs were created to protect the remains of the departed. Bodies were ritualistically purified then mummified to preserve them for use in the after life. Food, money, furniture, spices, clothing, and sometimes even pets and servants were buried with the dead to ensure their comfort on the other side. During Samhain, in Ireland, it is believed that the veil between the living and the dead is thin. Food, light, and incense are left for the dead. A place is set at the table for any relatives who have passed within the last year. Samhain is observed by neo-pagans in the United States, Great Britain, Canada, and Australia as well. Modern Halloween customs have their origins in the holiday of Samhain. Other popular holidays celebrating death include All Saints Day, All Souls Day, and Day of the Dead.

In Mexico, Day of the Dead celebrations include decorating gravesites and leaving gifts. Gifts range from flowers and toys to bottles of alcohol and candy. The home is also decorated for the event and offerings of food and drink are left out. Images of skulls are popular Day of the Dead decorations, though most skeletons and skulls look less scary than whimsical.  Skulls made from sugar and decorated with icing are given to both the living and the dead. Images of the Virgin Mary are also very popular. Overall the decorations and mood are much more colorful and bright during Day of the Dead than other during similar holidays.

Regardless of the tradition, almost every individual is accustomed to some form of ancestor veneration. It is hard to imagine a world in which no amount of care or concern was given to the dead. Perhaps it is an important part of the human psyche to believe that a connection with a loved one can remain after death. Or maybe, in honoring others, we ensure that ourselves will not be forgotten.

Many fine articles by Jamie Sue and others can be found at the Resource Forum on In Repose

Baba Uploads her first Story to In Repose, part 2

Today we conclude with Part 2 of Baba's story, "The First Time I Ever Rode a Horse".  Baba is busy adding photos, stories and documents to her page on In Repose.

The officers for whom I worked were some of the most infirm of the German Army. They had spent time on the front and been wounded or were ill, and not fit to serve as fighting soldiers. The commander of the garrison had only one eye. His name was Hartnack, he was a Colonel. The man I took dictation for was named Captain Astfalk. He had only one arm.

   I spent my working days taking dictation and then typing orders for the company commanders that were full of half truths and lies about how well the Germans were resisting. Even at 17 I knew I participated in a daily farce.

   Sometimes, during a break in my work I would look out the window at the long lines of parked military vehicles and wonder how many weeks it had been since any of them had seen a drop of gasoline. Here at the Feirhof we were using old parade and draft horses to pull carts of people and supplies.

   I had just finished handing Captain Astfalk a stack of briefing papers when the Air Raid siren sounded. “Go go go!” yelled Captain Astfalk. About 30 people from our building poured outside and most of them ran toward the woods nearby. I came out running with my high heel shoes and saw that some people were climbing into a small horse drawn cart. By the time I reached the cart, it was already overflowing with people, most of whom were not physically able to run to the woods. A sergeant helping with the evacuation took one look at the overfilled cart and then decided to pick me up, and while he was setting me on the horse I heard the old kitchen woman yell, “Take off those shoes and RUN!” But I was already astride the horse. I remember that there was nothing for me to hold onto but a handful of his long brown mane as the horse trotted toward the woods and the other people.

   That’s when I heard the machine gun fire. The horse heard it too and began to run madly out of control down the dirt road with the people in the cart screaming and holding on for dear life.  I managed to stay on for only a few minutes before I finally lost my grip. I slid off and landed in a ditch. The horse kept running as I laid there terrified.

   I glanced in the direction of the cart and saw the horse stumble and fall during another burst of machine gun fire. The cart turned over and the people jumped off and ran as fast as they could. Even the old kitchen woman started to run. I was one of the last ones to make it to the woods. As I reached the others I realized that I had wet myself when I was in the ditch. I hoped that no one would notice.

   When the airplanes finally left we all looked at each other in silence. Then we started to walk back to the buildings. As we walked I stopped and turned and looked for the horse and saw that it was still lying on his side, its back bloody with bullet holes. The sergeant was looking at the horse too. With a sigh he told me to turn around, follow the others and not look back.

I will never forget the sound I heard next: The single shot from the sergeant’s gun.

I know how busy life is these days. It seems like the days zoom past and there is always more work to be done than there is time to do it in. Take my advice and try to record some of your family's important stories while you still can.  We will share more of Baba's stories here as we prepare to upload them to her online page.

Baba Uploads her first Story to In Repose

Although most memorials are created for people after they pass away, here at In Repose  I am encouraging everyone to archive important family information and stories on their online page BEFORE it is too late.

Not only does the person then have a say in how they are remembered, in photos and documents and stories, they also save their family the burden of creating a memorial in what could be a terrible time of grief and stress.

I am helping my mom, known to all as Baba to upload cherished photos and important family history and stories, before they are lost forever!

We invite InRepose readers to observe this process and follow along as we begin documenting and archiving the life of this fascinating woman.

We began with one of her more harrowing accounts of life in war-torn Czechoslovakia in 1945. This story, entitled, "The First Time I Ever Rode a Horse" is my mother's story, but was told to and recorded by me.

The first time I ever rode a horse was in early April, 1945, in Budweis, Czechoslovakia. I was only 17, but employed by the German Army.

Earlier that year, the government had closed all of the high schools to support the war effort. All of the teachers were pressed into military service.  All of the other girls my age were made to work for the German Army or “Arbeitsdienst” to help run the farms or the hospitals which had lost workers to the war as well.

The boys my age were all drafted too. They received three months of marching training, and then were showed how to hold a gun. Then they were sent to the Russian front.

Our former Headquarters had been bombed the week before. Of course it was not allowed to listen to the BBC, but we knew that the war had nearly been lost. The Russian air raids happened almost every day. But increasingly the pilots used machine guns rather than bombs. That meant the day of occupation was coming soon. They wanted the soldiers dead and the buildings standing for future use.

For many weeks we had prayed for the Americans to come and to take the place of the Russians whom we were so fearful of, but our prayers had not been answered....

To read how the story ends, tune in tomorrow for part 2, or click over to Baba's page and click on the document link near the bottom of the page.

Baba's page

Death Row Factoid

There are about 3,350 people on death row in the US and there were 53 executions last year.

Storytelling

It's all about the storytelling, I tell you. What is? EVERYTHING IS. Its the very meaning of life. Pick a subject, any subject, pick a passion any passion, there are either great stories about it or it is about telling stories in and of itself. Work, religion, archeology, movies, sports or philosophy, everything under the sun. Its all about the stories.

From Wikipedia, a definition of Storytelling:

The earliest forms of storytelling are thought to have been primarily oral combined with gestures and expressions. Rudimentary drawings such as can be seen in the artwork scratched onto the walls of caves may also have been early forms of storytelling. Ephemeral media such as sand, leaves, and the carved trunks of living trees have also been used to record stories in pictures or with writing. With the invention of writing and the use of stable, portable media stories were recorded, transcribed and shared over wide regions of the world. Stories have been carved, scratched, painted, printed, or inked onto wood or bamboo, ivory and other bones, pottery, clay tablets, stone, palm-leaf books, skins (parchment), bark cloth, paper, silk, canvas and other textiles, recorded on film and stored electronically in digital form. Complex forms of tattooing may also represent stories, with information about genealogy, affiliation and social status.

Traditionally, oral stories were passed from generation to generation, and survived solely by memory. With written media, this has become less important. Conversely, in modern times, storytelling is built upon a  foundation of sophisticated types of multimedia.

So what are YOU doing to record YOUR story? Your family's stories? Your first born child's first day in kindergarten? The day you and your dog got lost in the rain? How about Grandma's best war time story? Grandpa's outrageous deep sea fishing story?  How about how Uncle Mike made you laugh so hard at church you got into trouble?

InRepose has some ideas how to document, archive and safeguard these precious memories and other important items such as historical documents. Our Online Memorials  have a lot more to offer than you might expect. Stay tuned!

Important Tips for Newly Widowed Woman

An article by Deanna Lynn Sletten

The loss of a spouse is devastating and the last thing on your mind at this time is your financial future.  But it is important for women to make a few crucial decisions early on to protect their finances and future security.  If going through your legal and financial papers seems like a daunting task, you may want to ask a trusted family member or friend to help you sort through them.

Your first task is to get organized and locate all the paperwork necessary to file claims or straighten out accounts.  Records that you will need include:

Death Certificate – You should have about two-dozen copies of your husband’s death certificate on hand as you will have to use them to collect on insurance policies, retirement benefits, and other death benefits you may be eligible for.

Will – If you and your husband have a will you will need it to settle the estate.  If not, you will have to follow your state’s laws concerning estates.

Tax returns – You should find your joint tax returns from the past five years.  You many need these to apply for any benefits you have coming to you.

Benefit accounts – Find records of any employee benefit accounts, retirement accounts, stock option plans, insurance policies including homeowners, auto, disability or any umbrella policies you may have. 

Investments – Put together any recent statements you may have from stock, IRA, and 401K investment accounts.  Make sure you also have recent copies of your checking, savings and any CD or mutual fund accounts too.

Official papers or certificates – Have on hand any birth and marriage certificates along with social security cards, military discharge papers and pre-nuptial agreements. 

Having all of these papers in order will make it easier for you to change names on important financial accounts and apply for any benefits coming to you.

Life Insurance:  Whether you husband had life insurance through his employer or you had taken out a policy together you will have to apply for this money to receive it.  Also, check your homeowners insurance to see if death benefits are included.  Some policies include a clause where the mortgage is paid-in-full or partially paid in the event of a spouse’s death. 

Benefits:  Aside from receiving any life insurance monies you may be eligible for other death benefits.  Some important benefits are through Social Security.  You may be eligible to collect retirement benefits if you are age 60 and over or age 50 and disabled.  Certain death benefits are available to widows and widows with children under age 16.  There are also benefits for children whose father is deceased, such as assistance paying for college.  You can also receive a special $255 death payment that will help to pay for funeral fees.  But you cannot receive these benefits unless you actually file for them.  Contact your local Social Security office as soon as possible for information on filing for these important benefits.

You may also be eligible for veterans’ benefits if your husband served in one of the branches of service.  Survivor benefits may include free burial in a national cemetery or you might be eligible to receive money for expenses related to your husband’s funeral, headstone, or cremation services.  If your spouse was receiving disability benefits at the time of death you may be able to continue receiving these benefits.  You will need to contact the Department of Veterans Affairs to find out what benefits you are eligible for.

If your husband belonged to any organizations such as a labor union, credit union, college alumni group, the American Legion or any other similar organization you may be eligible for insurance benefits or some types of assistance programs.  Contact the organization to find out the benefits they may have to offer.

Employee benefits, such as accumulated sick leave, vacation, or PTO that your husband incurred may be available as a payout to you.  Contact the Human Resource Manager at your spouse’s company to check on what benefits you have coming.

Most of these benefits you can apply for on your own by having the appropriate papers, however if you have trouble collecting them you may want to consult a lawyer.

By diligently reviewing your financial papers and following up on all benefits that are due to you, you will be on your way to securing a solid financial future that may help to alleviate some of the stress you are experiencing through your loss.

In Repose  reminds all adults to record this critical information easily, quickly and privately to ease the burden on your family and loved ones by creating a My Last Wishes  account. (Our basic account is FREE)