I’m sorry you were exposed to that at a time when you should have been insulated from the cruel indifference of technology. For a profession that once took pride in the personal touch, providing such an impersonal experience is appalling.
It seems especially horrid seeing as an obituary specifically is sort of the most formulaic aspect of funerals. Anyone that’s read them in the paper could tell you they tend to follow a pretty similar structure. It’s so lazy to use these machines to do something so rudimentary.
You and your father have my sympathies for your mother’s passing. I hope you’re both finding ways to continue onward. Undoubtedly she would hope the same.
Thanks and we’ve been managing. Helps that both of us go to therapy and I know my therapist at least has been a massive help in teaching me about grief, how to deal with it, and how to keep my mother alive in small ways.
I’ve always thought that Terry Pratchett said it best:
No-one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away, until the clock wound up winds down, until the wine they made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone’s life is only the core of their actual existence.
I’m sorry you were exposed to that at a time when you should have been insulated from the cruel indifference of technology. For a profession that once took pride in the personal touch, providing such an impersonal experience is appalling.
It seems especially horrid seeing as an obituary specifically is sort of the most formulaic aspect of funerals. Anyone that’s read them in the paper could tell you they tend to follow a pretty similar structure. It’s so lazy to use these machines to do something so rudimentary.
You and your father have my sympathies for your mother’s passing. I hope you’re both finding ways to continue onward. Undoubtedly she would hope the same.
Thanks and we’ve been managing. Helps that both of us go to therapy and I know my therapist at least has been a massive help in teaching me about grief, how to deal with it, and how to keep my mother alive in small ways.
I’ve always thought that Terry Pratchett said it best:
No-one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away, until the clock wound up winds down, until the wine they made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone’s life is only the core of their actual existence.