My grandma (born in 1905) once told me a story about when she was a kid, probably around 1912 or so.
One of her great-aunts died at home. It was a rural community so they didn’t bother to get a doctor in, and in the tradition of the time the body was laid out at the house to let relatives pay their respects. Normally you’d have to worry about the body beginning to decompose, but it was the middle of winter in Nebraska so they just put her in an unheated back room. She lay there for three days.
When they finally went to bury her, the body was still warm.
And…they buried her anyway.
At this point in the story I said, “Um, grandma…?” And she looked sort of embarrassed and said, “Well, apparently nobody liked her very much.”
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