Photo by Dorina Andress, cropped by Neutrality.

When someone dies, each culture has its own customs and protocols for the aftermath. Now since this blog is still what we would call anecdotal in nature, I will not be comparing the many similarities and differences in death rituals across the globe – we’ll save that for the cultural anthropologists. In its place is a tale of mystery, death, and how the road to regret is paved with gooey, cheese filled intentions.

Death #1

My Mom died about a quarter after nine into the New Year. Some of you reading this are already familiar with the procedures that follow a hospice death, and for those of you who aren’t, contain your excitement because we’re not discussing it this post. What’s important for this post is what happened later that day. Close friends had planned to come over soon anyway to say their goodbyes, and given the holiday few were working, so before I knew it our home was full of people. Which was great! What was less great? At least five mothers following the social protocol of bringing food to a bereaving family.

I mention the mothers, specifically, because where a person’s coworker may bring a card, or some flowers, mothers will bring you enough food to last three months when the person who died was the main food preparer of the family unit. Not to mention all the finger food for the guests. People get hungry, especially when they’re exerting all that energy mourning and giving condolences. I mean it, next wake you go to watch for how many get up for second helpings.

By midafternoon food sprawled across every inch of counter space our kitchen and dinner table had to offer. It was as if I was the one who had died and awoke in the Promised Land for foodies. All different types of deli meats, bread dips galore! Crisp veggie spreads ripe for the eating! And oh the cheeses! So many plates of cheeses!

My most vivid memory of that day, second to one, is my Dad and I looking into our stuffed to capacity fridge and solemnly agreeing no less than half would go bad before we could eat it.

Death #2

When we learned my Dad was terminal, I made a decision. I would make it clear I wanted no food brought over after his passing to avoid what happened with my Mom. I would not see another deli meat platter wasted. Nor would I have my freezer packed in some insane game of 3-D Tetris of varying lasagnas like what happened to my friend Michael after his Mom passed. Instead, I asked for something I knew would keep for a long time and would be enjoyed at some point – alcohol.

To pull from my Facebook status: “His wishes were for no service or wake of any kind, but if you’d like to stop by sometime this week or so, please just give a heads up. And I know social convention dictates the offering of food items such as deli meats and lasagna, but please note food perishes quicker than alcohol, and there’s only so much room in my fridge and tumbly.”

For those of similar inclinations and in similar situations, feel free to use this as a starting point when crafting your strategic status update.

Now, I almost got it right here. I made it known to all on the Facebook I did not want food, frozen or otherwise, and somewhat subtly requested spirits in place of it so people would still satisfy the need to bring something. However, I still fell short of success. I failed to specify the type of alcohol, assuming my friends would bring a variety and had some inclination to my tastes. Alas, it was not to be. It was the multiples of assorted cheese plates all over again, in the form of red wine. But, thankfully, alcohol does last longer than cheese platters, and here we are almost a year later and only a few bottles left in the pantry.

Lessons learned

The moral of this tale is Pro Tip #17:

Put coordinating food and drink on your post-death To Do list.

Seriously. Otherwise you don’t know if you’re getting stuck with five pounds of cheese, or eating nothing but lasagnas for a solid month, as Michael explains in his blog post, “How my Mom’s death made me hate lasagna.”

Now go, those of you with a dying someone, right now, drop your tablet or phone, toss that laptop aside, and write it on your list. Or keep your device in hand and put it in your electronic list. However you roll.

Don’t have a list yet? It should go something like:

1. Call hospice
2. Call funeral home
3. Coordinate post-death food and drink situation
4. Find something to do until they get there
   1. TV
   2. Read
   3. Scrabble, maybe.

Every list will be vary depending on the circumstances, of course.

Pro Tip #16: Make a post-death To Do list.

And now, to start a new arc in this blog adventure. Next time on Progeny of the Dead and Dying: Coordinating hospice care – and you thought blind dates were uncomfortable.