Bury Me
General Conference Retrospective
Elder Gong talks about being buried in your own temple clothes. One of the not yet entirely lost customs of the old Church was making your own temple clothes and then laying out your dead in theirs. These little acts are very meaningful.
I wrote those observations above in my notes for General Conference. The next day my wife called: a family friend had died, the Lovely One was carefully ironing the pleats in his temple robes. There is so little we can do any more for the dead. What little we can do is precious.
We had two blessings when our daughter died that we felt strongly. Our bishop’s daughter-in-law sewed in one night a beautiful dress with covered buttons and tucks to bury her in. The next morning the funeral home let us wash our daughter and dress her.
Then at the burial in a small Mormon town where many of her ancestors lie, the casket wouldn’t quite fit in the grave. It wasn’t wide enough at points. The fella from the cemetery was there with some tools on hand. I and my father and my brother took off our suit jackets and widened her grave.
Both of those memories are precious to me.
When I die, I will be buried, not cremated. In my dreams I want my sons and sons-in-law to make the casket and dig my grave. I want my wife and daughters and daughters-in-law to make my clothes and dress my body.
Filed under: Deseret Review | Tags: General Conference retrospective
E.C.
May 2, 2024
There is this beautiful, as-yet-unfinished children’s series called The Ashtown Burials (which isn’t about a graveyard exactly, btw), and the last finished book has a prologue that you would like.
“On a wind-battered hillside, above a lifeless house, beyond the jagged battle line where sandstone cliffs held back the gray churning sea, in soft mossy earth beneath a towering redwood tree, there was a hole in the ground six feet deep. Two brothers, breathing hard, scrambled out over the wet sandy mound beside it and dropped their shovels. A sister watched them pick up ropes beneath a long pine box. A tall man with dark skin and another with a thick square beard stepped in to help.
. . . “Rupert Greeves raised his face to the wet sky and spoke the words of blessing for an Explorer gone ahead.
“Antigone stood between her brothers and knew that this was where she would always be standing. For the rest of her life, her soul would keep roots in this place, at the foot of her father’s grave in the California hills . . .
“Cyrus and Daniel Smith picked up their shovels . . . And while the brothers worked, planting a man, the Captain sang a dirge of departing, his voice swaying like a sailing ship, his words lost in ancient English but his sorrow as real as the rain. Finally, when the box was swallowed like a seed, Antigone lifted her eyes to where the bark had been cut from the redwood tree, to the carved words that marked their father.
“Lawrence John Smith
through deepest shadow
across darkest sea
he sails for the sun.”
Rozy
May 2, 2024
I had the privilege of dressing a woman in her temple clothes when I was RS president. It was such a sweet, spiritual experience and I didn’t even know the woman. When our son took his life the police insisted on an autopsy and the funeral people suggested that we let them prepare the body, so we didn’t get to perform that last service to him. He hadn’t been endowed so he was dressed in his Sunday suit.
My grandmother made my temple apron and it is one of my most treasured possessions. But I want to use a replacement to be buried in so I can pass it on to our daughter as a precious heirloom.
Rob
May 2, 2024
Having built hundreds of simple pine caskets for people. There are those precious days between death and burial where the windows of heaven open for those family members to receive the tender mercies from the lord.
It’s a pattern I’ve seen many times.
G.
May 3, 2024
Rob,
Any patterns or how-tos you recommend?
G.
May 3, 2024
Ec, that is rich. I’ve been meaning to read this for a while and I think you’ve just precipitated me
Annie
May 3, 2024
…raised his face to the wet sky and spoke the words of blessing for an Explorer gone ahead…” resonates with me, as my husband, who has traveled a lot for business and pleasure, always describes the trip to the next life as the most exciting of all. I’m not quite so sanguine, but death does not hold any terrors for me; it’s the “pre-flight” process that is worrisome.
Also, did “And while the brothers worked, planting a man…” remind anyone else of the Speaker for the Dead series?
I like the imagery of being planted and coming forth into the next life as a glorious ‘Tree of Eternal Life.’
E.C.
May 3, 2024
@ G and Annie,
I absolutely love N.D. Wilson’s children’s books – they’re thick with Christian imagery and beautiful language, especially the book from which I took this quote, Empire of Bones. I would say that his style is half-mythological, half-tall tale, all American, and madly inventive. Also dark, but there’s courage and goodness to counter it, and a deep Christian hope for resurrection. ‘Death by living’ is a constant theme.
Rob
May 5, 2024
G,
A casket must fit inside a burial vault, which is required by most cemeteries. So the inside dimensions of the burial vault is 29 inches wide by 86 inches long by 24 inches high. The casket must be 1 inch smaller than the dimensions quoted.
I typically make my caskets 28 inches wide 84 inches long and 18 inches tall. If you keep those dimensions as the maximum any casket design will do. Check out casketbuildersupply.com for plans and hardware. I make my caskets out of pine. And use very little metal.