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A grieving mom whose second child died after just 5 days of life has made his grave into a sandbox so the older sibling can play with his dead brother. Not sure how the 3 year old is processing this.

Read more here.

#grief #mourning #remembrance

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, on the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

James Joyce, The Dead

This longread on contemporary Cockney funerals is fascinating.

Via The Economist.

The always-excellent Lapham's Quarterly published this diagram in honor of Halloween (I know, I'm a little slow on the reblog here). It really shows the power that relics continue to hold over our imaginations—that small scrap of someone is the next best thing to being there, still.

This was inevitable: a Tumblr that collects funeral selfies. Because at all events, at all times, the only thing that is of any interest is...ME. Ouch.

#memorial #memento mori #funeral #selfie

It's Tikker! A watch that counts down the minutes you have left on earth, a modern version of the memento mori timepiece. My only complaint: the thing is plug ugly. Who would want to look at it for the rest of his/her days/hours/seconds left in this mortal coil? Ugh. Still, Tikker has surpassed its Kickstarter goal of $25K nearly four times over, so clearly people are paying attention to their mortality. Go Team Death!

#memento mori #watch #death #memorial

The Fallen is a site specific installation made up of nine thousand silhouettes hand-drawn in the sand on the Normandy beach in memory of the soldiers and civilians who died on D-Day: June 6, 1944. British artists Jamie Wardley and Andy Moss (and 200 volunteers!) created the work over the weekend of September 21 to mark the International Day of Peace. The project was two years in the planning and the results, which were ultimately washed away by the tide, powerfully address the transience of life and the finality of death.

#Memorial #DDay #JamieWardley #AndyMoss InternationalDayofPeace

Throwing out the Memories

Parishioners at Rev. Robert H. Schuller's nondenominational Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, California, were horrified to learn that the church, during its conversion to a Roman Catholic house of worship, is removing a walkway of 1800 paving stones installed in memory of the dead. There are no plans for reinstallation; the church has created a diocese-sponsored website with digital images of the stones instead. Is this an adequate substitute for the physical memorial stones? Here's what one tearful mourner told the New York Times. “The thought of them being dug up just sends me into tears,” Ms. De Clercq said, crying as she spoke. “I don’t even know if I’m going to live through this. I’ve just been so devastated.”

If metal is immortal, then somewhere there lies the burnished button I lost upon my seventh birthday in a garden. Find me that button and my soul will know that every soul is saved and stored and treasured.

Vladimir Nabokov, A Forgotten Poet

This Salon article explores the question: Is it a good idea to bring extinct species back to life? Or are they better left behind as memories? I side with Arthur Jensen in Network: "You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. Beale, and I won't have it!" Best to leave the dead buried.

#extinction #memory #memorial

I spent yesterday with a friend who was unfamiliar with GhostBikes, so when I happened to pass this one in memory of Mathieu Lefevre, I snapped a photo to send her. Mathieu died in October of 2011 when he was struck by a flatbed truck on Morgan Avenue in Brooklyn. The driver didn't stop, claiming he was unaware he'd hit anyone. Mathieu's death received a great deal of press attention after the NYPD decided not to file charges against the truck driver. These street memorials always stop me in my tracks when I encounter them, and I spend a careful moment studying the items placed on and around the bike. They all seem purposely chosen in this case, but I do wonder about the can of Pabst Blue Ribbon tucked just above the pedal near the street light base. Seems that placement could be either deliberate (a tribute to a favorite brew) or random (a pedestrian with a morbid sense of humor and an empty beer can to get rid of). I hope Mathieu's parents get some better answers from the police, soon. Their son had about the kindest expression in his eyes I've ever seen.

#mathieu lefevre #ghostbikes #NewYorkCity #memorials

For under $2000, Elysium Space will launch a portion of your (or your loved one's) cremated ashes into the universe. First launch is summer 2014. Wave hello to Major Tom as you pass him in orbit.

The final words of prisoners, recorded just before they're executed. We tend to place a great deal of emphasis on last words; in this context they are both pitiful and repellent—odd memorials indeed.

No drama, no weepy symbolism, just the names of three family members in gold with white enamel. Memory doesn't have to be messy.

She once told me that she studies as if she were going to live forever and lives as if she were going to die tomorrow.

http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/05/31/deeda-blairs-elegance-of-conviction/

A series of portraits documenting the ritual of wearing black as a signifier of perpetual mourning. All of the subjects in the series have vowed to wear black every day for the rest of their lives. Photography by Georgia Metaxas.

Flowers sculpted from mouse bones by Hideki Tokushige.

Click on the photo to read original post on Colossal.

UPDATE: also read this very nice Spoon & Tamago post on the work.

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