Kansas City funeral director’s obit says goodbye with zest, whimsy

Turn up your U2 music, breathe in the beautiful day and enjoy the self-authored obituary of Nancy D. (as in dog) Conley.

As a funeral director at McGilley State Line Chapel, Conley knew to cover all the appropriate bases in her obituary — remembering the people she loved and who loved her, listing some of her survivors, noting what to send in lieu of flowers.

But surrounding it all is a hymn to life from the 55-year-old Kansas City woman who, she wrote, “kept her faith, remained positive, goofy and a dork until the very last breath.”

“That is just like her,” said Kevin Cullen, whom Conley described, among other ways, as the “love of her life.” “She wanted to make what was normally a depressing resume into something that would make someone smile,” he said.

She made fun of life’s details, even the funeral director’s need to be sure and get down the right middle initial (“D as in dog”) for the obit.

The obituary wonderfully describes Conley “inside and out,” said Paula Wasinger, a fellow funeral director at McGilley, remembering her friend’s zest for entertaining and comforting people. “She was dedicated to this funeral home and all the families she served.”

Over the past several years, Conley had been battling breast cancer in what she described as “the longest game of Space Invaders” that finally ended with cancer owning “the high score.”

She liked breaking conventions. The people preceding her in death, her obituary noted, included “Theodore Roosevelt … and anyone not breathing.”

She noted that she “hated gum smacking, when someone didn’t use their turn signals while driving, male urinals, and cabinet doors being left open.”

Anyone who can name all the U2 song references in her piece can contact her “man friend” Cullen and win her “life time collection of all things U2.” But you’ll have to pick it up. “No delivery.”

She wrote that Cullen “will be having the biggest garage sale ever to get rid of all her stuff. No worries, every sale will include a tote to take your new crap home in.”

In lieu of flowers, she suggested contributions to “our National Parks System, Little Sisters of the Poor, or your local liquor store.”

Look out for “the biggest garage sale ever,” she warned. But don’t worry, not all of the music on her CDs to be played at a reception Thursday will be U2.

Live with no regrets, she says.

“If there is anything you take away from this,” she wrote, “please let it be a sense of humor. Life is too short.”

This story was originally published May 17, 2016 at 2:17 PM.