A Conversation with Joe Ditler
(continued)
Even today, when a friend loses a loved one, I get the call.
"Joe, can you help us with the obituary?"Sadly, our conversation usually goes like this:
JD: Tell me your husband's birth date.
Widow: Oh, it was November 10 ... and I think the year was 1929. Or was it 1927?
JD: Where did he receive his education?
Widow: We met when he was going to UCLA. But let's see, I think he got his masters at ... oh, what was it again?
JD: I understand he was awarded a medal in WWII.
Widow: Yes, it was a star, a bronze star, or was it a silver star? Anyway, he was on one of those beach assaults in the South Pacific. If he were here he could tell you all about it ...
You see, when someone you love passes away, the heart grieves, and the mind just stops working. Then the phone rings, and it's the local newspaper saying they need an obituary and photograph by tomorrow at noon.
One of the saddest things is when I inquire as to a charity or church he might have wanted donations made to in his memory. The surviving spouse strains with thought for a moment, then says, "Well, Hospice, I guess ."
Because they had dealt with Hospice the past four days, this was a natural reaction to my question. But in fact, he was devoted in life to the Birch Aquarium and the San Diego Opera.
So it has become clear to me that providing such a service is indeed a solid investment of time, but also saves your family from dealing with the unenviable task of trying to create such a document, an accurate document, within days of your passing.
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