"'Til death do us part," that age-old marriage vow, has always sounded a little, well, non-committal to Confucian ears. In Vietnam, for instance, where I come from, death is not the end of relationships, it only deepens them.
After a person dies, we clearly need to make decisions regarding final disposition, for public health reasons as well as closure for the family and community. But what happens when the remains are those of a person believed to have committed a horrific, recent crime?
It may sound peculiar, but there are some very exciting things happening where death is concerned in America. The momentum of change in how we view and respond to death is building in many sectors of society as we transform our culture of death.
The phrase "no man is an island" gets tossed around pretty lightly these days, but at its core, it's about the same thing. When the funeral bells toll, don't ask who they are for. We're all in this together.
My parents and I wound our way into D.C. and my father parked the car behind some obscure but fancy little church. As we walked toward the church, my father announced that this is where they were to be buried.