A Meaningless Description

Of A Life

To the Editor:

This letter is in response to the obituary listing for Stanley B. Bulan, my grandfather, printed in the April 27 issue. On April 22, my mom and I struggled to put into words “who” my grandpa was in order to honor his life in the newspaper he so enjoyed reading on a weekly basis. It was a difficult task, and I am sure anyone who has lost a close loved-one would agree, as it was almost impossible to covey what made him so unique and special, the unconditional love he gave and the imprint he left on his family and friends. I am sure you can imagine (at least I do hope you can), the initial heartbreak and then the deep setting disappointment my family and I felt when we saw his obituary and under his name it read “Plant and Facilities Manager.”

Its superficiality struck me by surprise at first and I even began reading the obituaries of those surrounding his to see if they shared similar meaningless descriptions. I am glad to say they did not and I am sure their families are also. Yes, he may have been a plant and facilities manager — but that is what he was, not who he was. My grandpa was a humble man, so much so, that he would without a doubt be shaking his head at the fact that I am even addressing this in a letter to you. His family was his entire universe and anyone who even remotely crossed his path was touched by his sheer love and devotion. He was a kind, understanding and forgiving man and he had one hell of a handshake. He had a profound impact on many people — from little children, to those who surpassed him in age. Simply put, he was electric.

I felt the need to express this on behalf of my family and my incredible grandpa, as you most certainly did not. I know this is not reversible, and I am OK with that. However, I ask one thing — moving forward, I implore you to read carefully and choose your descriptive words wisely. They are words provided to you by loving, yet heartbroken families who want to honor their loved-one the best way they possibly can in such a limited context.

They may just be words, but they are important ones.

A proud granddaughter,

Erin Doyle

305 East 81st Street, New York, NY                                May 1, 2012