Death's Follow Through

My 3rd aunt died early in the morning today. The wake was quickly put together by the casket service, and we attended it to have one last look at the body. After talking to the sons about the past month and her travails, I was rather peeved that it seems quite apparent that the doctors were not very proactive about dealing with her health problems as quickly as possible. The observation by one son that she seemed dazed and drowsy was largely ignored by the doctor and dismissed as a regular result of dialysis. It does seem that being in a 3rd class ward means that patients get 3rd class medical care.

I noticed today the different ways people deal with death. Some family friends bowed before the casket but did not attempt to look at the body. Others went in to have a look. I asked the sons whether they would be alright with my taking photos of the scene, and they expressed no objections. I figured it would be a good way to remember the day, but it seemed that they were (understandably) not inclined to have a documentary memento of this day of bereavement.

My parents were quite horrified that I decided to take pictures of the body, given some sort of taboo about taking pictures of the dead. They were rather insistent that I delete the photos of the body itself. I did comply, since it is quite pointless to keep the pictures if nobody was intent on seeing images of the body (specifically the face). One does not argue with cultural sensitivities, since everyone is entitled to their choice of opiate. Death portraits were quite in vogue elsewhere, not too long ago. However, I figured it was even more disrespectful of the meat to have it pickled and displayed before others, then barbecued in a specialized kiln, and have the ashes picked out later to be stored in a jar.

Of course, the follow through of death is simply a matter of opinion. For practical purposes, a body is just a body and really...it matters little what one does with the body. It is meat like any slaughtered cattle, and due no more respect than other pieces of meat. Yet, it remains a symbol of what was once a person, and where I think an image does the ex-person more justice, others think not having the image would serve better.

As for myself, if/when I do become a lump of meat, I would much prefer incineration followed by scattering or being fed to the wolves than to be gutted, pickled, barbecued, then stuffed in an urn. To me, the last option would be a rather undignified way to treat a lump of meat, and does no honor to its meaty goodness.