By: chema.foces – CC BY 2.0Recently my husband had a very dear friend pass away after a long battle with ALS. While I don’t personally feel like I need services to grieve, my husband with his deep southern roots and traditions would like to honor his friend. We are financially unable to pay for traditional services, but are willing to host a memorial service.
Has anyone planned what will boil down to an offbeat memorial service? Ideas are appreciated. -Mashatater
Working tirelessly to bring you stimulating content day after day, our team of Offbeat Editors will not sleep until you've gotten your offbeat fix.
Comments on What does an offbeat memorial service look like?
When my dad passed away we hired a private room in a memorial area and proceeded to play the Life of Brian (Dads favorite movie). The celebrant that married Mum and Dad did his end of life ceremony which was really touching (he was 92 at the time, Mum and Dad were the 4th couple he married when he became a celebrant and they remained really really good friends)
My mother’s fiance passed away last year, and well, it was pretty much the most awful thing ever. However, the memorial was fantastic! He was a magician/clown/inventor/tailor/carpenter/all around phenomenal, creative performer and person. So his memorial was taking over a local bar/performance venue and showcasing a ton of his talented friends. There was belly dancing, fire eating, sword swallowing, burlesque, sideshow, magic acts, musical performances, comedy routines, body painting, etc. It was amazing. And we also needed to raise funds for all the unexpected medical and funeral costs so the memorial doubled as a fundraiser. There were donation boxes everywhere, the bar gave us a percentage of the drink tab, we had a silent auction going and a bake sale at the bar.
My friend ariel passed away a little over a year ago, One the one year anniversary passed I posted on her facebook that if anyone wanted to come to her grave and have a balloon release they were welcome to come. I provided the balloons and when I got there her entire family was there they had a small service for her and then after I passed put balloons everyone said a little hello to ariel and then we released them. It was really touching and I was happy that I could do something for her.
For my grandfather, we spent the day at his favorite beach.
My boyfriend’s great uncle just passed away and they spent an evening at his favorite bar, had a slideshow on the TV and just chatted and celebrated his life.
I’m a Quaker. Our memorial services are as follows: everyone gathers and sits down in silence. Often, but not always, there is an opening song. Then everyone sits in meditative silence reflecting on the person’s life. As thoughts and experiences and memories bubble to the surface and ask to be shared, that person stands up and begins to speak (in a bigger space they would be passed a microphone). Some reflective silence is left between “messages.” There’s lots of crying. This goes on for an hour or until the sharing seems to have died down, depending on time and space and the mood of everyone there. Then there is maybe another song, and everyone goes and eats and talks and cries.
The best part of Quaker mourning is the “memorial minute.” Not an obituary, it focuses on the person’s spirit, the way they were in the world — generally it shouldn’t list jobs and achievements, but is more about their service, their gifts, their unique wonderfulness. It’s often (though not always) written after that first big gathering, and can draw on what’s shared there. This is passed around from Meeting to Meeting, sent far and wide, read over and over, and every time it’s read there’s a similar (shorter, maybe 5-10 minutes) period of silent reflection on it, with vocal messages as folks are led. I love this practice for the chance it gives to work out grief over a longer period of time and with different groups of people — often people who didn’t know the deceased, but who can learn from his or her life anyway.
I have non-Quaker friends who have found utility in adopting or adapting these or similar practices, so for what it’s worth, there it is for you, too!
My partner’s father–an architect, artist, and offbeat guy–died suddenly and somewhat unexpectedly after 25 years of cancer, recurrences, treatments, and long stretches of relatively healthy periods in between, so he had the chance to tell his family what he would have wanted. The problem (for the family) was that he didn’t want a traditional Jewish burial and service, but rather wanted to be cremated (a big no-no in his religious community, though not particularly upsetting to his immediate family), have his ashes scattered in the water near his favorite fishing spot (illegal as it was too near the shore), and have a kick-ass party with no tears.
My partner came up with just the perfect ways to honor his dad’s wishes in a way that felt palatable to the rest of the family (after a considerable amount of debate). We had a small, short, rogue ceremony off the fishing pier for a small group of family and close friends with the family’s Rabbi (who encouraged us not to file for the required permit for a gathering in the park) and quietly tossed the biodegradable/disolvable urn of ashes off the pier. About a week later, we arranged an exhibition of his art. We rented an amazing gallery space and arranged his pieces by the different eras and styles of his work (line drawings, prints, string pieces, wood pieces, styrofoam pieces, wire sculptures, concrete sculptures), and put together a sideshow of his architectural models that ran on a continuous loop projected on one wall. We played his favorite classic rock and served beer, wine, and some hors d’oeuvres. Friends, family, and friends of friends and family came out, celebrated his life and work, reminisced, and had a kick-ass party that he would have loved. He never had the opportunity to exhibit his art in his lifetime and we felt so good to be able to honor him in that way.
However you do it, I wish you meaningful moments and whatever brings you peace and healing in this time of loss and remembrance.
Posted by
When my dad passed away we hired a private room in a memorial area and proceeded to play the Life of Brian (Dads favorite movie). The celebrant that married Mum and Dad did his end of life ceremony which was really touching (he was 92 at the time, Mum and Dad were the 4th couple he married when he became a celebrant and they remained really really good friends)
My mother’s fiance passed away last year, and well, it was pretty much the most awful thing ever. However, the memorial was fantastic! He was a magician/clown/inventor/tailor/carpenter/all around phenomenal, creative performer and person. So his memorial was taking over a local bar/performance venue and showcasing a ton of his talented friends. There was belly dancing, fire eating, sword swallowing, burlesque, sideshow, magic acts, musical performances, comedy routines, body painting, etc. It was amazing. And we also needed to raise funds for all the unexpected medical and funeral costs so the memorial doubled as a fundraiser. There were donation boxes everywhere, the bar gave us a percentage of the drink tab, we had a silent auction going and a bake sale at the bar.
My friend ariel passed away a little over a year ago, One the one year anniversary passed I posted on her facebook that if anyone wanted to come to her grave and have a balloon release they were welcome to come. I provided the balloons and when I got there her entire family was there they had a small service for her and then after I passed put balloons everyone said a little hello to ariel and then we released them. It was really touching and I was happy that I could do something for her.
For my grandfather, we spent the day at his favorite beach.
My boyfriend’s great uncle just passed away and they spent an evening at his favorite bar, had a slideshow on the TV and just chatted and celebrated his life.
I’m a Quaker. Our memorial services are as follows: everyone gathers and sits down in silence. Often, but not always, there is an opening song. Then everyone sits in meditative silence reflecting on the person’s life. As thoughts and experiences and memories bubble to the surface and ask to be shared, that person stands up and begins to speak (in a bigger space they would be passed a microphone). Some reflective silence is left between “messages.” There’s lots of crying. This goes on for an hour or until the sharing seems to have died down, depending on time and space and the mood of everyone there. Then there is maybe another song, and everyone goes and eats and talks and cries.
The best part of Quaker mourning is the “memorial minute.” Not an obituary, it focuses on the person’s spirit, the way they were in the world — generally it shouldn’t list jobs and achievements, but is more about their service, their gifts, their unique wonderfulness. It’s often (though not always) written after that first big gathering, and can draw on what’s shared there. This is passed around from Meeting to Meeting, sent far and wide, read over and over, and every time it’s read there’s a similar (shorter, maybe 5-10 minutes) period of silent reflection on it, with vocal messages as folks are led. I love this practice for the chance it gives to work out grief over a longer period of time and with different groups of people — often people who didn’t know the deceased, but who can learn from his or her life anyway.
I have non-Quaker friends who have found utility in adopting or adapting these or similar practices, so for what it’s worth, there it is for you, too!
My partner’s father–an architect, artist, and offbeat guy–died suddenly and somewhat unexpectedly after 25 years of cancer, recurrences, treatments, and long stretches of relatively healthy periods in between, so he had the chance to tell his family what he would have wanted. The problem (for the family) was that he didn’t want a traditional Jewish burial and service, but rather wanted to be cremated (a big no-no in his religious community, though not particularly upsetting to his immediate family), have his ashes scattered in the water near his favorite fishing spot (illegal as it was too near the shore), and have a kick-ass party with no tears.
My partner came up with just the perfect ways to honor his dad’s wishes in a way that felt palatable to the rest of the family (after a considerable amount of debate). We had a small, short, rogue ceremony off the fishing pier for a small group of family and close friends with the family’s Rabbi (who encouraged us not to file for the required permit for a gathering in the park) and quietly tossed the biodegradable/disolvable urn of ashes off the pier. About a week later, we arranged an exhibition of his art. We rented an amazing gallery space and arranged his pieces by the different eras and styles of his work (line drawings, prints, string pieces, wood pieces, styrofoam pieces, wire sculptures, concrete sculptures), and put together a sideshow of his architectural models that ran on a continuous loop projected on one wall. We played his favorite classic rock and served beer, wine, and some hors d’oeuvres. Friends, family, and friends of friends and family came out, celebrated his life and work, reminisced, and had a kick-ass party that he would have loved. He never had the opportunity to exhibit his art in his lifetime and we felt so good to be able to honor him in that way.
However you do it, I wish you meaningful moments and whatever brings you peace and healing in this time of loss and remembrance.
Hi Lisa,
I loved your story about your partner’s father and would like to include it in my book. Do I have your permission to do that?
Thanks,
Susan
Hi Lisa, I have not heard back from you, is it OK that I use your story? thanks, susan