A Final Farewell

Written in dedication to, and in loving memory of my Mother, Alice Ruff.

"I wanted to find a final letter from my Mom so much when she passed away, but it was not to be-" were the words that began my Mother's last message for me.

Undoubtedly my Mother had expressed a universal and fundamental human longing for comfort, after experiencing the death of a loved one, in that simple sentence. Verbalizing the need for a tangible reminder that could be held on to, and provide solace, when searching for the meaning of life and living.

It is this very normal response to grieving that, 125 years ago, led to the invention of a rather simple device that we know today as the Ouija Board. Sadly, this sentimental fact is often overlooked within the heavy handed re-branding of Ouija's image by Hollywood and Urban mythology, but it is the painful inevitability of the passing of a beloved that will remind us of Ouija's allure and the reason why talking boards have continued to be a popular and hotly debated item.

The enigmatic Ouija Board and how it has reflected and impacted our attitudes toward mortality, and served as a reminder of the inexorable nature of death, has often been a topic of discussion between myself and dear friend Robert Murch, Chairman of the Talking Board Historical Society. As a Director for the TBHS myself, I have academically addressed the idea of talking boards acting as a transcription device for the discarnate with skeptics and believers alike, but never with the excruciating depth of understanding that I have gained in the past few weeks, since the sudden and unexpected loss of my own Mother.

After the death of a loved one, there can be a desperate need by those left behind, for validation that the departed have not ceased to exist in anything other than a physical way. It is this longing for verification of their welfare, and the chance to continue the relationship and gain closure that will remain Ouija's most poignant and enduring legacy.

It was because she never received that closure from her Mom, that my Mother carefully prepared and scheduled emails for my sisters and me, to be dutifully delivered upon her death. Her thoughtful last tokens of love were received a week after her passing, two days before what would have been her birthday on May 2nd. My Mother had always been very proud of me and had found my involvement with the TBHS amusing and highly interesting, but was never the type to leave things to chance. We had even half-jokingly discussed trying to make contact when the time came for us to part company in this world. The irony that I might try to speak with her via one of the talking boards I created and that she had critiqued for me, was never lost on her. Bless Mom for making sure that my grief stricken pleas for some kind of message from her, after she had passed, did not go unheeded and that she provided me with those last words of love and comfort to sustain me until we are together again.

In closing this personal glimpse into my understanding of the power and influence of the game we call a talking board, allow me to provide the gentle reminder that it is the knowledge that there was never anything left "unsaid", and that my Mother and I always communicated our love for each other, that gives me the most comfort. I share this with the hope that everyone who reads it will take the opportunities available to them while they can to express their love, so that they need not rely upon a talking board to deliver their final farewell.