The scrapbook version of our lives

Last week a cousin of mine (through marriage) lost his dad. I saw the notice in the Globe and Mail. Good thing, because I wouldn’t have known otherwise. Made me think back, to when I was a kid.

My mother used to read the Obits every single morning. Never missed. When she saw a familiar name, she’d get on the phone and call my aunts and my grandmother. Sometimes, even friends who knew the deceased. I can still hear the conversations, all these years later.

It drove me insane. I used to tell her it was macabre. Ghoulish. Gross. A miserable start to an otherwise nice day. It almost felt like prying, because for the most part she didn’t even know who these people were.

And then she’d tell me it was important. “I have to know”, she’d always say, “so I can send a sympathy

Day 64. One Year

“Steve’s passing one year ago today was a sad and difficult time for all of us.  I hope that today everyone will reflect on his extraordinary life and the many ways he made the world a better place.

One of the greatest gifts Steve gave to the world is Apple.  No company has ever inspired such creativity or set such high standards for itself.  Our values originated from Steve and his spirit will forever be the foundation of Apple.  We share the great privilege and responsibility of carrying his legacy into the future.”  Tim Cook, Apple CEO, October 5, 2012

Somehow, it seemed fitting that I follow yesterday’s post about discovering ‘who’ someone is through an obituary notice, with a story about Steve Jobs, who passed one year ago.  Actually it was a year last Friday, October 5.

I was shocked when I turned my computer on, this past Friday morning, and clicked on Safari.  The website homepage I was looking at was totally blank, with the exception of an empty video screen. Within seconds a wonderful, short memorial film about Steve Jobs started to play.  A message from Tim Cook, the current Apple CEO followed the video tribute.  You can read part of it, at the top of this post.

A year!  It doesn’t seem possible.  And yet it is.  And I was just as shocked a year ago to hear that he had died.  Strangely enough, I found out the same way.  By turning on my computer.  My Apple computer.  Clicking on Safari, and seeing the message, and the tributes on the homepage.

Although why I was shocked, I don’t know.  

Day 63. The Obits

You’re going to think I’m twisted when I tell you.  I read the obits.  I read them everyday in the Toronto Globe & Mail; and once a week in the Sunday New York Times.  I’ve been doing it for years.

I don’t do it to check to see if there’s anyone in there I know.  That’s the last thing I want to find.  I read them because they’re interesting, even if they don’t say much, which most of them don’t.  They’re quite expensive, so most people are very careful about how many words they use.  But even at their most minimal, they acknowledge that this person lived, had a life.

You see their age, and whether or not they were married.  Whether or not they had children and grandchildren.  And great grandchildren.  Nieces or nephews.  Sisters or brothers.  Who their parents were.  Where they were born.  Where they went to school, where they worked, and why they died.  From what.  Sometimes they include hobbies and interests.  And, because of donation requests, they often tell you what causes and charities were