How to plan a remote funeral or memorial and grieve during the coronavirus pandemic

If someone you know has died from complications due to COVID-19, these resources may be helpful.

By ,

More than 238,000 people around the world have lost their lives to COVID-19, and the death toll is growing as the full effects of the coronavirus play out in hospitals and communities. The nature of social distancing means patients are denied visitors in their final hours and families can’t congregate in person at funerals and homes to bury their dead and mourn.

Enforced distance during a time of traditional togetherness can deny people the physical comfort of a hug, a shoulder to cry on and a sense of finality that’s part of the grieving process when someone close has died.

Online resources and tools are no replacement for a gathering of loved ones and friends, but they can help families organize online memorials, memory books and donations made in your loved one’s memory. We present some resources to help plan a remote funeral or memorial and otherwise honor those who have died as a result of COVID-19.

Remember that performing a physical act can sometimes help you regain some agency during a situation you can’t otherwise control. Here are additional tips to help manage anxiety during the pandemic.

Have a Zoom, Skype or YouTube funeral or memorial service now

The coronavirus restrictions prevent us from holding a funeral in person to honor the memory of those who we’ve lost. If you’re affiliated with a religious institution, reach out to see what kind of support your organization can supply in the short term — for example, literature on grief, individual video chats with you and your family members or online prayer meetings.

Your family and friends can also hold a memorial service using Zoom (change these settings to prevent unwanted guests) or another video chat service like Skype broadcast, Google Meet or even a private YouTube channel. Sharing a eulogy or other prepared tribute, readings, poems and personal stories — even discussing the hardship of being alone — can provide a chance to mourn together in a virtual community.

You can also record the memorial service to play later or to share with others who couldn’t attend online.

Set up a vigil your community can see from the street

To honor the memory of the family member who has died, you might light large candles on your porch or windowsill and allow others to drive past and honk to offer support. Set up a large box on your driveway for those in your neighborhood to drop off letters, flowers or other items they may want to share as a sign of their support and grief — at a distance from others.

As you collect items, make sure to handle them cautiously, and wash your hands after touching them. If you yourself are in a high-risk group, ask for deliveries, physical mail and email instead. These gestures could mean a great deal to others who never got to say goodbye and who want to support you.

Ask your religious institution for advice

Although most churches, mosques, synagogues and other places of worship are closed to help prevent the spread of coronavirus, they can still be used as a way to help you grieve. If you’re affiliated with a religious institution, reach out to see how they can provide relief during this time.

One church is live-streaming funerals and services for its congregants. A synagogue is also holding virtual prayer using Google Hangouts. One mosque is live-streaming the sermon and prayer, while another outside the United States is broadcasting the prayer over a speaker.

Ask your institution how they’re helping those in need. See if you can speak with the religious leader, like a priest, imam or rabbi when you need someone to pray or grieve with during this time.

Plant something in your garden or in a pot

The act of planting a flower, ornamental bush or even a fruit-bearing tree in the yard could provide comfort as a symbol of life, of hope or even simply as a way you’ve chosen to honor the deceased.

Reach out to online support groups

If someone close to you has died, seek a Facebook or other online group to share your thoughts and experiences, ask for ideas and even just read to know you’re not alone.

Live and Work Well, a website for well-being and behavioral health, suggests looking into online support groups for grief and loss. You can find others in your area that are grieving through websites such as Grief Support. At this time, the groups are meeting online.

Complete Article HERE!

Dying old, dying young

– death and ageism in the times of Greek myth and coronavirus


The loss of life from the spread of coronavirus has been on an enormous scale. In the USA more Americans have now died from COVID-19 than in the entire Vietnam war.

Notwithstanding some poignant and passionate speeches by particular individuals (notably New York Governor Andrew Cuomo), much of the discourse has focused on the economic, political and policy division, rather than grief for the victims.

This broadly sanguine response might be due to perceptions that it is mostly older people dying from coronavirus, although experts warn younger people can die too. Witness the relief at new reports that children under 10 have not accounted for a single transmission of the virus. The deaths of older people have been comparatively discounted, not the least because many were socially isolated even before the pandemic.

The Greeks of antiquity reflected on the death of the young and the old in some very creative mythical narratives. Greek myth reflects on and reminds us of some of the less attractive characteristics of human life and society, such as sickness, old age, death and war. In the ancient Greek world this made it harder to put old age and death into a corner and forget about it, which we tend to do.

Choosing when

Achilles, the hero of Homer’s Iliad, actually has a choice in the timing of his life and death.

He can have a long life without heroic glory, back on the farm, or he can have a short life with undying fame and renown from his fighting at Troy. The fact that he chooses the latter makes him different from ordinary people like us.

Achilles’ heroism is fundamentally linked to his own personal choice of an early death. But it also means his desperate mother, the goddess Thetis, will have to mourn him eternally after seeing him for such a short time in life. Such is the pain for the loss of a child in war.

A play by the master Athenian dramatist Euripides is even more focused on young and old death. The play Alcestis was produced in Athens in 438 BC, making it the earliest surviving Euripidean play (about ten years before the plague at Athens).

In the play, the king of Thessaly – an appallingly self-interested person called Admetus – has previously done the god Apollo a favour, and so Apollo does Admetus a favour in return. He arranges for him to extend his life and avoid death in the short term, if he can find someone to take his place and die in his stead.

Admetus immediately asks his father or mother to die for him, based on the assumption that they are old and will presumably die soon anyway. But the father, Pheres, and his wife turn down Admetus, and so he has to prevail on his own wife, Alcestis, to die for him, which she agrees to do.

The story of the play is based around the day of her death and descent to the Underworld, with some rather comic twists and turns along the way. Death (Greek Thanatos) is a character in the play, and he is delighted to have a young victim, in Alcestis, rather than an old one. “They who die young yield me a greater prize,” he says.

The light of day

There is a particularly spiteful encounter between Admetus and his father on the subject of young and old death:


Yet it would have been a beautiful deed for you to die for your son, and short indeed was the time left for you to live. My wife and I would have lived out our lives, and I should not now be here alone lamenting my misery.


I indeed begot you, and bred you up to be lord of this land, but I am not bound to die for you. It is not a law of our ancestors or of Hellas that fathers should die for their children! … You love to look upon the light of day – do you think your father hates it? I tell myself that we are a long time underground and that life is short, but sweet.

The Alcestis of Euripides, and other Greek myths, remind us, should we ever forget, that love of looking upon the light of day is a characteristic of human existence, both for the young and the very old.

Complete Article HERE!

These Are The World’s Oddest Funeral Traditions

(Still In Practice Today)

When it comes to dealing with the dead, some countries have traditions that are a bit stranger than most.

by Vanessa Elle

Unique traditions help to preserve the history and identity of a particular culture. From Halloween practices to funerals, every culture has its own traditions when it comes to dealing with the dead. Keep reading to find out about some of the world’s oddest funeral traditions that are still practiced today.

Indonesia: The Funeral Takes Place Years After Death

In many countries, funerals are held only a short amount of time after someone passes away. But in eastern Indonesia, funerals amongst the Toraja ethnic group are sometimes held years after a person has died. The primary reason for this is that they are often larger-than-life events lasting anywhere from a few days to a few weeks and it sometimes takes a family that long to save up enough money to afford such an affair.

Between the moment a Toraja person dies and the moment they have their funeral, they are still kept in the family home rather than in a morgue. They are referred to as someone who is sick or sleeping rather than someone who has passed away and is even cared for, laid down, and symbolically fed.

Ghana: People Are Buried In Fantasy Coffins

Ghana has made headlines in the past for the fantasy coffins that are so popular in the African nation. The idea behind fantasy coffins is that people get the chance to rest forever after in a casket that represents something they were passionate about or something they achieved. For example, a fisherman might be laid to rest in an oversized fish while a businessman might choose a casket shaped like a Mercedes.

It’s common across many cultures to invest a lot of money into the ideal coffin and this tradition just takes the idea one step further. After all, a coffin serves as someone’s final resting place, so it only makes sense that it represents them properly.

Tibet: The Body Is Exposed To Vultures

Sky burials are common amongst the Vajrayana Buddhist communities of Mongolia and Tibet. After a person has died, their body is cut into pieces and left on a mountaintop, where it is exposed to vultures. The underlying belief behind the tradition is that the body becomes an empty vessel following death and must be returned to the earth while the soul moves on.

The practice dates back years and is still the most popular method of burial in Tibet today. Other cultures across the world have also been known to expose a corpse rather than bury or cremate it, including the Zoroastrians, a religious group that today is mostly found in India but can be traced back to pre-Islamic Iran.

Madagascar: Having A Last Dance With The Body

Amongst the Malagasy people of Madagascar, a person’s burial isn’t a singular event. According to the traditional famadihana ritual, the body is exhumed every five to seven years to take part in a celebration. During the ritual, the bodies are sprayed with wine or perfume and family members dance with them while a band plays.

Some take the opportunity to update the deceased person on family news or ask for their blessings. More importantly, during famadihana, people remember the deceased person and tell stories of them to keep their memory alive.

New Orleans: A Jazz Band Funeral Procession

Of course, a jazz funeral could only ever take place in New Orleans! This tradition involves a brass band that accompanies a person’s funeral procession. The idea behind it is that the streets are filled with music and the deceased person’s life can be celebrated in addition to their death being mourned.

The procession typically begins at the church or funeral home and marches all the way to the cemetery. The music steadily becomes more upbeat as the march goes on and people begin to dance, with passersby also encouraged to join in on the dancing.

Complete Article HERE!

When a Friend’s Loved One Dies

by Lori Lipman Brown

My father, Mel Lipman, died one year ago today on his own terms. He signed himself into hospice, stopped artificial nutrition, and died peacefully with the aid of pain-killing medication.

As a humanist, I appreciate straightforward language regarding death. I don’t consider my father to have “passed away,” and I certainly don’t think he’s in a better place. Although I suppose MedCure, an organization that supports medical science and the place my dad’s body was sent, could be considered a better place than fighting pain in the hospital. That said, I appreciated everyone’s well-wishes.

The sympathy cards showed a wonderful understanding of me, my family, and my father. Everyone who sent them had chosen exactly what applied to us—no talk of heaven or other theistic concepts. Instead, the focus was on the legacy and memories that my father left for us all. Notes recalled wonderful memories of specific times with Dad and appreciation of all he had done for the community. I’m grateful for those notes, as well as the wonderful longer letter I received from Dad’s colleague in the Humanist Foundation, which I read to him during his final days.

If you had asked me (before it happened) what I would need most when my parents died, I would have said the companionship of my friends. But what I really needed was time alone with my parents’ “stuff” (including paperwork), time off from work to handle necessary paperwork, and time with my immediate family (my spouse, my brother, and my brother’s family).

If you want to help a friend whose loved one has died, it’s fine to say, “Let me know what I can do.” However, suggesting specific things you might be able to do is even more helpful. Taking into consideration restrictions imposed by the current coronavirus pandemic, you can offer advice or assistance with:

  • Burial/cremation/funeral arrangements
  • Childcare
  • Rides to appointments
  • Laundry pick-up and other errands
  • Meals at your home/their home/take-out from restaurants
  • Grocery shopping

Add to the list whatever you think your friend might need that you can do. If you’re wrong, no harm is done in offering assistance.

As I mentioned, I received many wonderful emails, calls, cards, and letters of condolence. Below is an example of the kinds of emails that I found to be helpful when my father died.

Date: March 2019
Email Subject: So Sorry to Hear of Mel’s Death

Dear Lori,

I was so sorry to hear that your dad died.  He gave so much to us in his activism, his warmth, his humor and his friendship.  Please DO NOT FEEL THE NEED TO REPLY TO THIS EMAIL; I know you have a lot on your plate right now with all the details that need to be handled following a death.

If I can help you in any way, please let me know.  Here are some things I think I could do well that might help:

  • I can notify everyone at the local interfaith group.
  • If Mel left his tax documents and you trust me with such, I can help with his tax filings.
  • I can help go through Mel’s belongings and can bring anything you want donated to his favorite charity.
  • I can listen if you want to call/skype/visit/meet for coffee to share memories of Mel, how you are coping, or anything else you want to talk about.

These are just a few things I can think of that I could do, but if you think of anything else you need me for, just let me know.

With deepest friendship…

Emails like this made my life less stressful during a trying time. It left me free to read and then move on.  Although I did not mind responding to condolence notes, I mainly wanted to focus my time on going through my father’s documents before I had to return to the East Coast.

I did take advantage of some offers of assistance. Bullet number one in the above email was quite helpful. It would have been burdensome to wonder whether I had left out any individual who needed or wanted the information, but even more burdensome to try to contact them all. Another item on the list that I took advantage of was that I had someone else help me with Dad’s taxes.

I greatly appreciated an offer to take Mel’s many mementos and writing and place them in an appropriate setting. I was about to ship to my small condo a large trophy that had been awarded to my father by the Humanist Foundation (of which he was a trustee and treasurer). At my condo, it would hardly ever be seen by anyone other than me and my spouse. Then I received a sensitively worded query from the American Humanist Association about whether I would be keeping it. I was asked if I would consider making it available to the AHA headquarters in Washington, DC, where it could be displayed. I thought that was a perfect place for the award. I also received an offer to send my father’s humanist papers to the Meadville Lombard Humanist Library in Chicago. The papers are now there.

However your friends handle the death of their beloveds, please remember that whether they reach out to you or not, it is simply important that you’re available to them. Your job as a friend is to be kind and compassionate in allowing them to do what they need to do.

A note on Mel’s last days:

The folks at hospice assured me that even after he seemed to be less aware and more asleep as the medication took its course, he could still hear me. I wasn’t certain if this was an accurate medical fact or something they said to make me feel better when I visited. But on one of his last days, Dad was furrowing his brow in discomfort. I sang to him, and I could see his whole face relax. I mention this, because it can be helpful to both you and your loved one to spend some time together even if one of you is less communicative than the other. (These days that time might have to be via computer or smart phone, but contact is still key.)

Finally, anyone who knew Mel, knew that he loved to play the dice game craps. He used to say: “A good death after a good life is like a long roll on the craps table. It has to end sometime.”

Love you, Dad. Seven out.

Complete Article HERE!

Being an end-of-life volunteer helped me in many ways

By Laurie Barkin

In 2012, I made a decision to become a volunteer, end-of-life “spiritual care partner” through a program called Kol Haneshama.

When I signed up, I had four elders in my life — my parents and their longtime spouses — all of them in their 80s. My work as a psychiatric nurse had given me precious little experience with death and dying.

Kol Haneshama is a collaboration between the S.F.-based Bay Area Jewish Healing Center and the San Francisco Campus for Jewish Living (formerly the Jewish Home).

For me, getting involved seemed like a good way to learn what I needed to know about this phase of life in order to help my parents when the time came. The surprise bonus was the depth of support I received from my fellow volunteers.

The phrase Kol Haneshama is found in Psalms 150: “Kol haneshama t’hallel yah” (Let everything that breathes sing God’s praise).

We volunteers are paired with people who reside in their own homes, in nursing homes or in hospices. The 40-hour training program is intense and experiential. I remember crying a lot.

At monthly learning sessions and weekly group check-ins, rabbis teach us about spiritual-care interventions such as empathy, ways to help our residents decrease isolation by building community, and how to open conversations with our residents about their beliefs related to death and dying.

During our check-ins, many issues are raised, such as: Exactly what is spiritual care and how do we provide it? How do we sit with people suffering from dementia? What do we do if our resident asks if they are dying but the family doesn’t want them to know?

We volunteers number about 20. On average, 12 to 15 of us turn up for our lunchtime learning sessions/check-ins. Although we range in age from 28 through 83, most of us are women of retirement age. As a result of our work and our discussions, we have coalesced into a mutual support group that buoys us through the inevitable losses not only of our residents, but of those in our personal lives.

Over the last five years, three of the four elders in my life, including both of my parents, have died. I attended all of their deaths, making sure that they died as they requested, peacefully and without pain.

Even with all the support I have in my life, the loss of my parents feels like an unmooring. With both dying in their 90s, it is not the earth-shaking loss of unexpected death. Rather, it is more like letting go of a hand, one that held wisdom, history and love. I felt destabilized, my body shaken, disturbed, out-of-sync.

During the process of their dying, I leaned heavily on my family and friends for advice, guidance and just to feel their love. After each death, my Kol Haneshama group listened deeply as I described the experience in detail. Although I hate crying in front of people, tears streamed down my face. They handed me tissues, asked me questions and asked how they could help. They checked in with me individually between groups.

At a psychological trauma conference I once attended, neuropsychologist Allan Schore said, “The experience of feeling cared about in a relationship reduces the secretion of stress hormones and shifts the neuroendocrine system toward homeostasis.” The point here is that social support is the spine that holds us up during life’s most shattering moments.

Everyone heals in their own way and time, but in my experience as a psych nurse, as a spiritual care partner and as a grieving daughter, healing is enhanced when we are able to express feelings of loss in the presence of caring others.

Feeling love and concern from my family and friends has indeed helped to quiet my body and soothe my spirit. Talking with my fellow volunteers, people who understand the language, feelings and terrain of loss — as well as the underground and sometimes contradictory emotions involved — provided more support than I could have imagined.

Because of the support I received, when I think of my parents these days, I find myself smiling and shedding tears of gratitude at the same time.

Complete Article HERE!

Four future scenarios of death and dying

By Richard Smith

The future is unpredictable. The unexpected happens often and can have a major impact. Nevertheless, some thought of how the future might look is important in preparing for it. Scenarios are one way of doing this and were developed after the wholly unforeseen oil shock of 1974. Scenarios are not predictions of the future, but rather sketches of plausible futures with the limits of plausibility set wide. They are not what people would like to happen, but rather what might happen. They have been used to think about the future of South Africa after Apartheid, the NHS, and scientific publishing. They are in many ways devices for thinking about the present, recognising things that will be important whatever the future brings.

Elaborate methods can be used to produce scenarios, but there is value in simply shared imaginings. I have imagined here four scenarios of the future of death and dying. Famously, the future is already here, but not evenly distributed, and that is true of these four scenarios.

“Immortality” and inequality

Medicine is successful with extending life but at great cost, increasing global inequality

Medical research uses genetics, big data, nanotechnology, artificial intelligence, and other methods to find ways to increase the length of life considerably. At the same private companies develop ways of “downloading brains” to allow some people to achieve “immortality.” These methods are extremely expensive, making them available to only a few. The very rich can access them and live much longer, while the poor, as now, have much shorter lives.

Climate response

The world and end of life care become much more equal

The climate crisis causes people to recognise our global interdependence and the rich to accept reducing their carbon consumption and access to expensive health care. Resources—financial and health care workers—shift from rich to poorer countries. The world becomes more equal, and the minimum package of palliative care described by the Lancet Commission on Palliative Care and Pain Relief becomes available to all while end of life care in rich countries becomes less technical and more human.


Families and communities become more important and health care simply supportive in managing dying and death

A growing number of people become unhappy with the increasing medicalisation of end of life care and the lack of meaning around death and dying. They take back control from the health establishment, change laws, set the agenda, and run end of life programmes. These developments are an extension of programmes—like that in Kerala and Compassionate Neighbours, Communities, and Cities—that have developed to increase the capacity of families, communities, and volunteers to manage death and dying. Health care remains important but plays a supportive role.

Assisted dying spreads 

Assisted dying becomes a component of universal health care

Assisted dying spreads to all almost all high income countries and many low and middle income countries. It is available not only to those judged to be near the end of life but all those with unbearable suffering and those developing dementia. It is tightly regulated but provided by many health care professionals, including those working in palliative care. In most countries some 10% of people die this way, but the range is from 1% to 25%.

Complete Article HERE!

‘We’re Going to See What Else the Word Funeral Can Mean’

As the coronavirus pandemic limits people’s ability to mourn, they are finding new ways to say goodbye.

Family members of Anthony Schilizzi, 75, mourned him on Staten Island last month after he died from Covid-19.


My father died of the coronavirus last week, and I’m not sure how to mourn. No visitors were allowed in the hospital, and my family did not get final goodbyes and I-love-yous, even over the phone. We think he died alone.

My sister planned a service, but only a few people were there, and everyone had to remain six feet apart. I took the bus home, skipping the burial because I have no car and didn’t want to violate the six-feet rule. Afterward, we could not grieve together as a family or share a meal, stories, laughter and tears.

In ordinary circumstances, I would have my retail job to go back to, which would help me regain a sense of normalcy. That option doesn’t exist now. How do I find closure? Maybe I can do a video conference, but it seems so impersonal and incomplete.


Theresa Schilizzi riding the bus home after her father’s funeral. Distancing requirements made it impossible to gather with her loved ones afterward.

Dear Theresa,

I couldn’t be sorrier about the loss of your father, or your quandary, which looms over us all. We may be about to confront death on a scale few of us have ever known, while being stripped of time-honored consolations: wakes, funerals, shivas. When the hour calls for togetherness, we will be apart.

When I called you to learn more, you told me that two years ago, you took a course called “The Art of Dying,” about finding new ways to bring honor to the end of life. “It changed me, to view death in a sacred way,” you said. Instead, your father got an ending that defied everything you had learned about saying goodbye.

To find answers, I turned to therapists and members of the clergy. Most of their advice was compassionate but resigned: Stay safe. Call friends. Even if a more extensive memorial is planned for later, don’t forgo the opportunity to mourn now. Give Zoom and Google Hangouts a try.

“It’s the best that we can do under these circumstances,” said Rabbi Jesse Olitzky of Congregation Beth El in South Orange, N.J., who has been leading funerals and shivas over Zoom.

That did not seem like enough. Grasping for more, I contacted historians of death, seeking clues about how previous generations mourned amid pandemics. They offered some of the more hopeful answers, and a prediction: This crisis would transform the way we grieve. These kinds of catastrophes are what push us forward in our mourning rituals, and now we are poised to make another leap.

“As gut-wrenching as these stories are going to be, we are going to find ways to innovate and adapt, to make meaning out of these separations,” said Gary Laderman, a professor of American religious history at Emory University.

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When disasters limit mourning, people invent new ways to say goodbye, Dr. Laderman and his peers said. It had happened many times before. The Black Death in Europe caused a high mortality rate among priests, so everyday people stepped in. During the Civil War, American families turned to embalming, to preserve the dead over time and distance, so they could be returned for burial at home. Those efforts helped give rise to the modern funeral industry. The Khmer Rouge in Cambodia left many of their victims in mass graves. So the bereaved switched to chanting over the possessions of the departed.

Those shifts were poised to happen before the tragedies hit, the historians said. But the crises accelerated the changes, and they lasted because they filled some shared need. Based on what the historians said, Theresa, your “Art of Dying” class may be more relevant than ever.

“In coming months, we’re going to see what else the word funeral can mean,” said Amy Cunningham, a funeral director in Brooklyn and a teacher of that course.

Authority figures like funeral directors and clergy members may become less central to the grieving process. “I think we’ll see a radical shift in the democratization of authority, who has the right to officiate a funeral,” said Priya Parker, the host of a new podcast, called “Together Apart,” on how people can still connect during this crisis.

Online funerals may dissolve the constraints of the form: size, location, cost. Eulogies could take on new shape. “We might imagine recorded remarks from loved ones, keeping their social distancing practices, filming words of remembrance at varied sites of significance to the deceased: a back porch rocking chair, a local fishing pond, a beloved hiking trail, the site of a first date,” wrote the Rev. Cody J. Sanders, an American Baptist chaplain at Harvard University.

Mourners are likely to place less emphasis on the body of the deceased. “I fear that, in some instances, the only moment that the family will meet the body again is when those cremated remains arrive in the mail,” Ms. Cunningham said.

Instead, the focus may be on memorializing that person’s life, and finding new ways to signal sorrow. In the 19th century, families had elaborate ways of telling the world they had lost a loved one, down to the texture of black fabric they wore, said Brandy Schillace, a medical historian. Windows were draped in black to mark a death in the home. “You could drive by a house, realize they were in grief and have solidarity with them,” she said.

Many of those rituals were abandoned when medicine improved and fewer lives were lost, Dr. Schillace said.

Now, as losses are beginning to mount, so is determination to forge new ways to comfort the bereaved. Volunteers are organizing donations of tablet computers to hospitals so that families in straits like yours will find it easier to share final moments. New grief groups are forming online. Prepare for more transformation in coming weeks, the historians predicted. Social media can turn a new practice into a tradition in 24 hours. Because no one is safe from the coronavirus, mortality is front and center for everyone.

When this crisis is over, some of these changes are likely to endure. Even when it’s safe to travel again, many in-person funerals will start to include video conference options for those who are far away, Ms. Cunningham said.

“I don’t know that the funeral will ever be the same,” she said.

Theresa, you are in the vanguard, even if you never wanted to be. Because of the time you invested in your “Art of Dying” class, you may be better equipped than some. Is it any consolation to think of yourself as part of a historic shift, in a position to find your own solutions and then help others by sharing them? I hope so.

With condolences,

Jodi Kantor

Complete Article HERE!