It is with deepest sympathy that I write this blog on the death of Markell Kaiser, who was Nick Kaiser’s (my boss) wife. This blog is not about her, or about how she did, but something I learned going through this experience. Markell was comatose for a few weeks before they had to “pull the plug”, so to speak and the weekend they were going to do it, I had been told by my friend and her son, Max. As I began to think about it over the weekend, and as it actually happened, and the five days I had before the funeral services, I realized, that living here in America virtually all of life, considering myself an American, I had no idea what the etiquettes were of an American funeral. I had never been to one, Iman had never been to one, and none of my Muslim friends had ever been to one or knew what to do either.
I am very bothered by this, that for all our professions of being American, we don’t know how to deal with one of the only certainties in life, from an “American” perspective. I know that some would argue that America is a melting pot of cultures so it is not uncommon many different people would have different ways of dealing with death, but I think that is just an excuse. There is a “main stream” culture in America and in many respects, even growing up here, Muslims don’t know it. I believe that once we begin to learn these nuances of American life, we never will be truly American, if that, in the end is a goal. I do feel it is, since I live here with my family, and cannot even conceive of another place to live in the world (at least not yet).
So in the 5 days leading up to the funeral, I contemplated, asked others, asked myself, what I should do, say, wear, etc. I even wrote a note to Nick and two of his kids apologizing and asking for forgiveness for not knowing what to do or say. Something I was embarrassed to do, but felt I must because someone mentioned to me that at these time, “lifelong perceptions are made from these short-lived moments. In the end, what I did and what I write here might or might not help anyone, but I pray it does.
As I heard the news and saw Nick and Jane in the office, I did not say anything about it. I didn’t feel I had to say “I’m so sorry for your loss”, because it was obvious. And in speaking with Max, he had once told me that there is nothing to say. I did however, mention to Nick that if there is anything I can do, just let me know. A surprising thing to me was that the family kept right on coming to work everyday. You could tell in there faces they were heart-broken and they didn’t get much done, but they were their. I then realized that this was their way of taking their mind off of the tragedy. I did not send flowers, as I felt that they would last a little while, take up space, and then someone would have to throw them away. We did send a card, hand made by Iman, and in it mentioned that we had given a memorial in the name of the deceased. For the funeral service, I wore a black suit, white shirt, and a black tie with a few colorful spots on them. Iman wore a black dress, and a top with some white on it and arriving at the service, we felt it was the appropriate dress. A dark suite would have sufficed as well. The funeral service was filled with a choir singing, the rector of the church saying some prayers, out loud and solo sometimes, and at other times he asked us to join him. There were some remembrances, a reading of a poem, and the service was followed by a reception afterward where we could meet the family. Iman and I together met the family members we knew, said how it was such a good service and reception and left.
