Open casket - helpful?

In My Humble Opinion
21

I dislike open caskets, and anyone taking pictures of a dead body in a casket is just too creepy for words.

When my brother passed away just a few weeks ago, I had no problem with his passing. It ended a very long time of slow suffering.

But, I dreaded the family visitation time an hour before everyone else showed up. I feared seeing him in the casket would just hurt too much. (When my other brothers died, one was open casket just for family and it was very hard. The other had already been cremated and no one had seen him in years, so that wasn’t any problem at all.)

And when I saw him my jaw just dropped open.

He looked absolutely fantastic. Everyone who had visited him said he looked great.

This was a man who was confined to bed for over two years, suffered from terrible depression and gave up any semblance of personal hygene and grooming. His beard at one time went down to his chest and was very shaggy and disgusting like a homeless/crazy man.

My mom had managed to get him to get a trim and haircut about 10 days before he died, but the Funeral home people did a spectacular job outfitting him. He hadn’t looked so good in 10 years!

I told the head Funeral Home Director Lady Person that they should run a day spa for mortals and she laughed, stating that only the front of us would look good, the back of our heads would not be done.

But, I’ve already told my husband that I want the picture of me in a bikini taken when I was 21 to be displayed at the funeral home.
I’d rather have people say, " Daaaamn, she was a looker in her day." Rather than, " Ohhh, she looks so peaceful."

But I’m getting cremated anyways.

Remember, funerals and wakes are for the living. Whatever it is that helps you come to terms with the loss ( crying, greiving, open casket, planting a tree, donating to a cause in the deceased name.) do it.

22

When my aunt died, my father went to her funeral. I didn’t because we didn’t know her that well. (Whole long story, not going into it now.)

Anyway, it was an open casket ceremony, and he said it helped him because it wasn’t his sister in the casket. It didn’t look like her, so he could hold his memories of his baby sister because what was in the coffin wasn’t her.

23

I really don’t understand the judgmental stuff being thrown round in this thread. You do what works for your own grieving and let other people do what works for them.

I guess we had a freakshow when my son died :rolleyes:. I’ve got photos of him in the casket, they’ll be buried with me and we had people visiting him at the house. My MIL drove me insane because she carried on for the two solid days she was there and he was at home about whether or not she could bear to see the body. Eh, look at him or don’t look at him but shut up about it. I’m still steamed that she burst into the room when we were closing the coffin prior to the service and made it all about her saying good bye to her grandson.

But ultimately the thing about grief is we are different, we grieve in different ways and why bother judging?

24

Too bad a given wake isn’t scheduled to be open casket from 1-5 and closed-casket from 5-8 to accomodate the different grieving styles of the bereaved.

I personally can’t stand open caskets, and I stay as far away from them as I can without being obviously rude - I prefer to spend my time at wakes with the living. I know the person is dead without seeing them, and I’d rather not have my last visual of the person be their lifeless body. They never look right to me. They just look dead and waxy.

My parents are both getting up there - my mom is 78 and my dad is 80. My mom wants a closed casket, and my dad wants an open casket. Kind of ironic that whoever goes first will have the kind of wake that the other one doesn’t like, isn’t it? I’m donating my organs and cremating what’s left, so whoever is left in my family won’t have anything to look at.

25

Oh, I agree, it is a very individual thing. Like I said, my MIL apparently gets a great deal of relief, release and comfort from the rituals she is used to and I would never say she is wrong; it’s just not right for me.

When my mother died, she was taken from the hospital to the funeral home from which the cremation was going to be arranged, and since it was done that way we had to go identify the body to be sure they had brought the right one. I helped my father with this, and I found it more distressing; as Dogzilla said, I prefer to remember her doing the things she loved.

26

The first funeral I went to was my grandfather’s and it was an open casket. The experience was almost surreal because I was not permitted to meet him in life. (He was a First World War veteran, confined to a the psychiatric ward at the V.A. for over 30 years.) So even though the general consensus was that he looked peaceful, in my 15 year old mind I thought he looked unreal and frightening. A truly odd introduction to one’s grandfather, to say the least.

When my great aunt died (she was like a grandmother to me), I walked into the room to see her before the ambulance got there. That was a good thing. I understood completely that she simply wasn’t there anymore. When I saw her later - prepared - she just looked artificial and the ceremony was something to be endured rather than comforting or helpful. I understand what an open casket ceremony is going for, but I wonder if it defeats itself by being so formalized, arranged and removed from the actual event. I wouldn’t dream of judging or criticizing anyone else for the kind of ceremony they choose, but I am very glad I had the opportunity to see my aunt when I did.

27

Interesting thread - lots of perspectives. I’ll toss in what I’ve got.

My families (and friends, generally) are cremators, so I’ve been to many more memorial services than I have funerals. But the experience of a couple of occasions leave me thinking there might be something relevant to this thread contained within.

When I was young and fresh into adulthood, I attempted a career as a drummer. At 18, I drove a floral delivery truck and spent many a lunch break and early evening shootin’ the breeze with Mori, proprietor of a small music store in the same shopping center as my employer. Mori had sold me my first drum kit a few years before, and he was a drummer, too.

One Saturday after work, I went over to Mori’s shop, and we got quite the bull session going. Stayed late after closing, and I remember part of the conversation involved Mori trying to figure out a way he could avoid losing money on getting my minimum wage ass a pair of timbales. Left feelin’ good.

Monday morning, first delivery’s a casket spray. You guessed it. Typical overcast Houston morning, and the last name didn’t tip me off. Dragging the monster spray into the unlit viewing room, I discover in the all encompassing grey that Mori’s lying there, waiting for me to decorate him.

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. I was with him Saturday night. I didn’t know he was dead. My drum daddy.

Early on a working morning, there was none of that grieving going on at this funeral home. That was for afternoons and weekends. No, this was the busy time of what I called the stage crew. All of us, the mortuary assistants, the funeral directors, the clerks, the other florists’ employees were busy in that blank dawn.

And I was perfunctory in the application of my duties. While I felt a cold, I wrestled against the wind I felt (how do you even feel a breeze in a viewing room?) and got Mori all dressed up.

And I left him there.

Sure, I was upset. Greatly. And in the next few days, I was the bearer of bad news to many of my friends who also knew Mori.

But I left him there.
Many years later, my stepmom called from the airport to tell me my Dad was two hours late to pick her up. I raced over to their house, conjuring up scenarios in my mind that might explain things. But, in the 10 or so minutes it took to get there, I knew. I knew what to expect.

Unlike any of my siblings, I got to spend a few moments with him on the bathroom floor where he died. Shortly, my SO’s poodle showed up to sniff him out, and I was afraid the carnivore would kick in, so…, that was the last time I saw him.

So I know my siblings’ experience of my Dad’s death remains different from mine. All they ever saw was a box of ash.

Other deaths where I’ve witnessed the freshly dead bodies have been different. Bobbie and Craig were a gay couple I knew who both died of AIDS, Craig shortly before my Dad and Bobbie shortly thereafter. We’d done the death watch before by the time Bobbie died, and when the 3:00 AM call came, we were at the hospital in 15 minutes. While Bobbie felt as cold as my Dad did when I brushed his hair back, it was a little bit different.

Bobbie was not an unexpected death. Mori and my Dad were.

Does that mean anything in the context of the OP?

Probably not.

For the OP, I’ve come from an environment that always sent the dead to a crematorium, so I’ve not been part of those who attempt to revere the body. OTOH, I’ve had a few experiences wherein such exposure has probably speeded my recovery from a person’s demise.

28

This is an interesting thread; I’ve enjoyed reading all the different points of view. I’ll throw my own story in-

When my first husband died, he’d been in the hospital for several weeks, in terrible form. He required life support for a good two weeks, so he had a tube sticking out of everywhere, it seemed I didn’t see him looking normal whatsoever from the time of the accident until the funeral. Despite some facial injuries, his parents and I decided on a open casket funeral. The funeral home did a wonderful job of allowing me and everyone else to see him one last time looking like the man I knew. (crap I’m crying here, sorry)

Ok, I’ve composed myself. The other point I wanted to make is that taking photos of people in caskets is really weird, IMO. My grandmother (bless her heart, is still a fruitbat) took pictures at his funeral (and a lot of others, now that I think about it.) When I remarried and took my now-husband back to England to meet my family, she whipped the funeral pics out to show him how he had a nice, strong, hebrew features just like my first husband had. Why she couldn’t have gotten out, say, my first set of wedding pictures for reference is far beyond me.

29

Sorry for your loss, hawthorne. Don’t be too hard on yourself, please.

I’m a firefighter. and (sadly) I’ve buried Brothers that I knew for decades, some for only a few days, and others I never met, until attending their Last Alarm.

I wish you peace and comfort. Be well.

Wishing there was a hug smiley.

30

With all that has been said, the thing that I think works best is simply following the wishes of the deceased. failing that, of the next of kin. (And i’m leaving detailed instructions, so everybody will know to ignore my mother.)

After 30 years in the floral industry (Ringo, was I your boss at some point?), i’ve seen it all and had to straighten up after some of it. Placing casketpieces, pinning on corsages and boutonnieres, putting flowers in hair, everything but putting clutch bouquets in hands (although if you tell the mortician ahead of time they will have the hands prepared) except once…my childhood friend.

Tacky florist joke: Every new delivery driver I ever had was given a corsage or boutonniere to take with when delivering their first casket piece. We’d always tell them that they were expected to pin it on, but to not worry, the person wouldn’t move. If they took that OK, then i’d add “You can just pin straight in, but watch out for leaks.” I had a guy just pass right out on me when I told him that.

The “backstage” crew, including florists, do a lot of gallows humor as far as I have seen. It’s the only way to keep your sanity when dealing with death on a daily basis. The jargon-types of humor are not bad (What time is this guy being dead? instead of When does the viewing or visitation start? or Is he dead tonight, or are they just lookin’ at him?) but the silly stuff saves your sanity (This guy TOLD me he wanted these yellow roses in this easel spray…or Let’s use the big sunflowers, she won’t be wearin’ her glasses and will see them better.)

Demystifying death can keep you sane, assuming you were ever there to start with.

Personally, I want the very minimum that the state requires, and I want it fast. My joke is that i’ll have the hole dug, the vault placed and the casket in it, and will go sit on the mound of dirt until I die, so I can just fall in and let the top slam shut. And if I could figure out how, i’d do it. I will be dying before my Mom, and i’m currently putting the whole thing on paper so she can’t have a three day grief-fest and the whole dog-and-pony show. Closed casket if there must be a service. If you come to my funeral, you’d better know me well enough to remember what I looked like. My death will not be pretty, and there isn’t enough makeup in the funeral industry to hide what i’m gonna be lookin’ like.

Besides, I refuse to be the guest of honor at a party at which there is no chance of rebuttal.

31

My mother was put off open caskets when her grandfather died when she was a child; apparently, he was made up and looked NOTHING like the man she had known.

I had the opportunity to look at my dad and turned it down firmly. I’d rather look at this really nice picture of him we unearthed from his stuff, thank you.

I KNOW my great-grandmother is going to want an open casket, and I’m dreading that. Hopefully I will be able to avoid anything more than a (probably required) glance. But since she is the family matriarch, what Grandmother wants, Grandmother gets, even when she dies.

Personally I think it’s barbaric but if it works for you, then do it. I’d rather just be cremated myself.

32

My grandma’s funeral was open casket. My grandpa’s wasn’t. I experienced them within two years of each other. I prefer not-open casket, simply because I think people should remember their loved ones as they were when they were alive, not as an inanimate object. Besides, it was hard for my 12 year-old mind to reconcile; people talking–there was a LONG wake–and, in the next room, there’s my grandma’s dead body, over there, exposed for the world to see. Surreal, IMHO.

Then again, my mom had the after funeral food-thing catered by Brown’s. Guess who hasn’t eaten Brown’s Chicken since then…

33

An open casket would be especially helpful to me:

  • If I had not seen the deceased in awhile (e.g., an out-of-town relative).
  • If the death was sudden or unexpected.
  • If I didn’t get a chance to visit the person during the illness that led to the death.

Basically, I would prefer to see the body if I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to the person before they died. However, whenever this has been the circumstance, the casket has been closed, which caused me to be a bit disturbed during the funeral because I kept wondering (irrationally) if it was the right body in the casket or if there was anything in the casket at all.

My grandparents died after long illnesses and had open caskets. I viewed the bodies, and it gave me some peace to see that they were truly gone.

So, I’m voting “yes” on viewing the open casket.

34

Thanks all. You have provided me much food for thought.

35

I agree with all the others who said that it’s up to you - if you feel it will help you with your grieving process, then go for it. Both my maternal grandparents passed away within 5 weeks of each other earlier this year. The death of my grandfather, who went first, was unexpected. The death of my beloved grandmother, although sudden, was not (she suffered a massive heart attack).

With my grandfather, I felt the need to view his body at the funeral home (it wasn’t an open casket funeral, but viewing sessions were held for family on the evening before the funeral). His death was unexpected (no sickness, nothing, just old age) so I wanted to see him one last time. And it brought some closure to the way I dealt with his death. With my grandmother, we had a little time to prepare for her death - she’d suffered a massive heartattack on a Friday afternoon , and we all stayed with her until she passed quietly away late Saturday night. Since I’d said my goodbyes at the hospital, I didn’t need to see her in the casket.

I think the one experience of viewing an open casket has been enough for me.

36

it is all a personal thing on if the open casket helps one deal with the death of someone or not…

i had one for my husband, but can tell you that some of my most intense ‘visuals’ that i now suffer with are that very scene in my head… there are times that those images pop into my head at the least expected and most unpleasant times, those along with when i had to id him… i personally think that now i could have done without the open casket part, but i think for many family members and friends they almost needed to see him … it was my choice, and i cant say that i would do it any different if i had to do it over again…

i also had to help bury my best friend and we had a closed casket… i didnt need to see him as i was with him when he died… i knew that he was gone and didnt need any more proof than that… he had suffered massive burns and it really wouldnt have been a good idea for anyone other to see him than the ones that already had been with him in the hospital… more visuals than most can imagine

as for touching the person in the casket, i dont think that i have ever been to a viewing that at least one person didnt touch the body… it is a way for someone to feel like they are saying their last goodbyes… i will warn you though, they feel NOTHING like a live person so be prepared if you do plan on touching them…

it is all a personal thing when it comes to death and dieing and how we each deal with it… there really isnt a rule book to go by, we just do what feels right and dont hurt anyone including ourself in the process

37

Personally, I’ve never been able to deal with the idea of looking at the remains of someone I love - dead and cold in a box.

I’ve never attended any wakes or “viewings” of anyone. Ever. I never will.

To me, I prefer to remember the person the way I knew them - alive, full of energy and full of love.

Finally, for me anyway - and a lot of this has to do with my complete lack of religious belief, etc. - the body in the casket is just a biological waste product, frankly. The person is gone.

Cremation and a nice memorial gathering. That’s what I’m planning for myself and that’s what suits me, I guess.

38

Welcome to the SDMB, queen of uranus.

Mrs hawthorne said that seeing the"shell" is confirmation that the person is gone. What’s curious is that the same observation means the opposite to different people - to some, viewing the corpse is saying goodbye to the person, to others it is proof that there is no person any more.

It’s an awkward thing, isn’t it? It’s about you, but not about you because you’re gone. You want to have what your family and mates want, but they want what you would’ve wanted.

What I liked about my mate’s funeral was that there were different experiences available. If you wanted to, you could view his body. If you didn’t, fine.

His family did well, because that’s the sort of bloke he was. He lived - too much, sometimes - for his friends. He was always good at analysing your situation and getting you to think about where you were and what you wanted. [small pause- it sinks in.] It turns out thinking about my attitude to this was a way of saying goodbye. Goodbye, Mark.