KORONER’S KORNER: Letters to the Dead

I recently wrote how, after almost 16 years, I had begun sorting through my deceased son’s things. We have lots of things that most folks wouldn’t have the room to store, but we are blessed to have a large house where we could put things away. Kind of like life after a loved one’s death, you can put thoughts to the side, but they never quite go away.

When you start going through old memories, they won’t all be good, no matter how much you thought of your loved ones. Things or even other people can stimulate those memories. It’s compounded by some folks not realizing how much it hurts when they mention some shortcoming your father may have had. Worse yet when it’s brought up in public. You know that old adage, ‘Don’t speak ill of the dead?” It’s not because of a belief that the dead will come back to haunt you, it’s because when you speak ill of the dead, sometimes you hurt the living.

While sorting through one of the containers, I found bundles of letters and cards to my son: a stack of congratulatory cards for his graduation from high school, old letters from his girlfriends and buddies, and all kinds of small, little knick-knacks and Christmas ornaments, given by his family, friends and loved ones.

Some of these letters from his girlfriends, I really didn’t want to see and to be honest, they will go into the trash to be burned. Those letters fall into that category of things I did not want to know because they sometimes don’t show the best side of my son, Richard. Sometimes they show how he was hurting emotionally. Those make me wish I had been closer so maybe I could have helped. But that’s part of growing up. He, like the rest of us, had to experience not only love, but pain in relationships as well to learn and grow. I just don’t think that anyone else needs to see his pain so into the flames they will go.

As I write this, I also remember how when Richard first passed away, we accessed his texts, messages, and notes to himself. Apparently, I wasn’t considered to be the best father that he wanted. But texts aren’t quite the same as letters. Texts are written and sent on the smallest whim. Many times, no in-depth thought is given to their content and the second and third order effects of whom they may hurt aren’t even considered. We’ve all hit ‘send’, then regretted it an instant later. Many don’t consider that words have meaning and consequences.

Letters take a lot more thought and effort. First, you have to decide to write them. Secondly, you have to organize your thoughts and decide what you want to say and how you’re going to say it. Finally, you have to sit down and take up pen and paper, something apparently far too hard for many of the youth and even older folks today.

Maybe my dad Leo’s wife Janet was right when she buried love letters between my aunt and uncle, Leta Faye and Anzel Mann. They wrote to each other during the depression when he was away working for the Works Progress Administration (WPA) program out West. I had wanted to see how much in love they had been because it wasn’t something I had really seen. Now, I realize that reading those letters could have been a two-edged sword.

Our memories of our grandparents and substitute grandparents like my aunt and uncle, are filled with good memories of good times. So, why would I want to see something that showed my whole vision of them was false and that they had just as many faults, and maybe more, as the rest of us? No, I prefer to leave them on a pedestal. That way I have something to look up to and have a goal to make myself better.

Back to the original intent, to write about going through things in my son Richard’s belongings. Notice how I can’t bring myself to write ‘dead son’s’ belongings? ☹ One of the most emotional items I found was a homemade birthday card I had constructed and sent to Richard. Not just a birthday card, but a card for the last birthday he ever had, his 28th. I always told my children that all I wanted for my birthday was just a homemade birthday card from them and this was my way of meeting my own standard.

The card was made of cardstock, with a pasted together cutout of a triple-masted sailboat. I told him that family is like a sailboat where his mother and father were the rudder that kept the family on the right course and the children were the sails that powered us. I wrote that as the lead sail (his name was written on the sail), he was responsible for providing the initial thrust and directing the air to the other sails, so we all went forward as one family. That card will be treasured for as long as I live. To me, it seems as though it was one of the best things I gave him as I closed with “I love you”.

Many who lose someone want something to remember them by. Sometimes this causes horrible divisions in the family where it seems like everyone is just trying to get something. Texts are only digits, but letters are something that hopefully a lot of thought and sometimes emotion went into before writing. They are something that can help us reach back into the past and remember better times.

My advice? Write a letter and tell someone how much you love them, even if you go to sleep and wake up next to them every night and day. It will be a part of you they will always treasure.

Respectfully and humbly,

Danny Leo Green,

Coroner, Cedar County