Conversations about aging and mortality often take a sombre tone, but for Ottawa writer Brian Doyle, they are an opportunity for wit, reflection, and even laughter. In a personal essay originally penned for the Ottawa Citizen in 2012 and republished in 2024, Doyle shares a candid snapshot of a discussion among friends that moved from comparing unflattering driver's licence photos to planning their own final arrangements.
From Licence Photos to Final Plans
The essay opens with a relatable scene: a group of friends sharing a laugh over their grim driver's licence photos, which one jokingly suggested would be perfect with a background of funeral parlour wreaths. This lighthearted moment naturally led the group to a more serious topic—the numerous funerals they had attended recently and their own preferences for when the time comes.
Doyle notes that of the roughly 20 funerals he attended in the two years prior to writing, only three or four featured an open casket, a practice the group collectively found "too ghastly." The trend, he observes, has shifted notably toward cremation.
The Practicalities and Personal Touches of Cremation
Delving into the practical side, Doyle researched local options, finding that a basic, no-frills cremation in the Ottawa Valley could be secured for well under $1,500. This bare-bones option covers transportation, paperwork, the cremation itself, and the return of ashes in a simple plastic bag, leaving families to provide their own urn.
It is here that Doyle highlights a profoundly personal gesture. A carpenter friend, whose father lived to 102, crafted an exquisite urn in his basement workshop. Made of sanded, polished, and stained white pine, the miniature coffin featured simple lines, a snug lid, handles, and a brass nameplate. Doyle praises this act as a "respectful, caring, personal, bittersweet, loving gesture," far surpassing the taste of store-bought urns that could cost over $2,000.
Inspired, Doyle commissioned his own urn from the friend for the price of two quarts of beer at their local. The urn now resides with his son, containing a copy of Doyle's will.
Planning a Personal and Witty Farewell
Doyle reveals he has already secured a plot at St. Martin's cemetery in Martindale, north of Low in the Gatineau Hills, where much of his family is buried. He notes that a government death benefit of approximately $2,500 would cover the cremation costs and leave room for a memorial gathering.
All that remains, he muses, is the marker. As an author of fiction set in the Martindale area, he considers a playful epitaph: "BRIAN DOYLE LIED HERE. NOW, HERE HE LIES." He acknowledges it might be "too damn clever," but the consideration itself reflects his approach—facing the inevitable with a thoughtful and humorous spirit.
The essay concludes with a poignant memory of his father in Ottawa's ByWard Market. After chatting with an old friend, his father simply stated, "That's the last of them," a quiet, accepting remark on outliving one's peers. Doyle's piece, framed by this memory, transforms a potentially morbid subject into a meditation on life, legacy, and the importance of facing our final chapter with preparation and personality.
