A well-written obituary should make you smile at least once — and cry, which I do from time to time, as I sit in our lobby with the bereaved, looking over handwritten obituaries and photographs taken long ago.

Recently, my dad asked me to help him write his obituary. This is a somewhat unusual request, except that I work the obituary desk here at the Star-Banner.
For the past two years or so, it has become normal to extrapolate the obituary page with my family during Sunday dinner. Our dinner chat has covered burial versus cremation, which pastor they want at the service, that we are not to sell my dad's tools, what picture they want to use in their obituaries and that my mom doesn't want anyone to look at her after she's dead.
Now, my dad is almost 75, and in pretty good shape for a man of his years. My parents pre-planned their arrangements a few years ago. They purchased plots at Good Shepherd Memorial Gardens, where my grandparents rest in the veterans section of the cemetery. My grandmother actually had my grandfather exhumed and transported here from Miami so they could rest in peace together — to Ocala, a place where he never lived, but that's what she wanted, and I am sure he would agree.
And that is the point of me writing this piece, so other folks get what they want, too. Or at the very least, have a conversation about it.
I would never have thought of these things at my tender age of 50, except that it is part of my job. I speak daily with folks whose parents have died without arrangements, and they are confronted with the cost and the decisions that will not wait for rumination. Feeling like they want to honor their parents, but faced with the financial reality, they are saddened, filled with guilt.
My mom is a thoughtful, practical planner, and I thank her deeply for taking care of their final arrangements. It would be difficult enough to endure the loss of my parents, but what if I couldn't afford it, too?
According to the National Funeral Directors Association, an average funeral costs $7,000 and change. That's 2012 pricing. Back in the days of yore, or around 1960, funeral costs were around $600. Cremation is less expensive, yet you still can expect to spend a few grand.
And obituaries used to be free, a community service provided by the local newspaper, but for the past 25 years or so, they are charged by the line and uploaded to the Internet, now part of a cyber-global cemetery. Genealogy is greatly served by online obituaries and death records. The offerings by Legacy.com are outstanding, you can integrate with social media, create perpetual guest books and upload videos to share.
So it is important that obits are more than a memorial service announcement, or a long list of survivors. The obituary is about the deceased, and the focus should be on them. If your mother was known for her Mississippi Mud Cake, say so. If Uncle Henry was an exceptional beekeeper and a closet poet, tell it.
A well-written obituary should make you smile at least once — and cry, which I do from time to time, as I sit in our lobby with the bereaved, looking over handwritten obituaries and photographs taken long ago. Mothers bring pictures of children and brothers bring pictures of their sisters — pictures that I scan, crop, convert to black and white, and place above the obit copy. Many have served our country in World War II, Korea, Vietnam and Afghanistan, and for those, I will insert our free veteran's symbol to recognize them for their service.
As I mentally prepare to help my dad write his own obituary, and face my fear of losing the most important man in my life, I might write mine. At my age, I now do what Mark Twain did. I get my daily paper, look at the obituaries page, and if I'm not there, I carry on as usual. However, if I am, I want an obituary that makes folks smile. One that does not include my work ID badge picture or mention of either of my ex-husbands. And make sure it runs on Sunday, as I certainly want to be the topic of someone's conversation. That's what I want. How about you?

Lisa Cook is an obituary writer for the Ocala Star-Banner.