There was no one who was more taken aback than Christina Novak when the brief online obituary that she had written and published in the Kennebec Journal on the passing of her mother went viral.
Allow me to be clear. It’s a public service announcement, and it’s not a joke. In an exclusive interview with PEOPLE, Novak, who is 47 years old, says, “It was written with sarcasm and relief, but it’s real.” The reason I was able to complete it in only four words was because I refused to spend any more money on that lady.
Florence “Flo” Harrelson’s colorful send-off, which was published on August 30th, is described as follows in the death notice: “Florence ‘Flo’ Harrelson, 65, formerly of Chelsea, passed away on February 22, 2024, without family by her side due to burnt bridges and a wake of destruction left in her path.” This is for those individuals who have not yet had the time to read the announcement.
The obituary continues by saying, “Florence did not want an obituary or anyone, including her family, to know that she had passed away.” She wanted people she frightened to continue to live in dread, even after she had passed away, and she wanted them to glance over their shoulders when they felt fear. In other words, this is not so much an obituary as it is a public service message.
That theory could even be supported by the personality-filled obituaries for Harrelson’s mother and her brother, Bill, who gained a level of fame on the television series Maine Cabin Masters before his death last year. When it was first read, some people online thought it was a joke, suggesting that it was a sly farewell to someone who could take a joke.
It was in 2015 that Harrelson’s mother passed away at the age of 80. She was the mother of five boys and twin girls. As a result of her skill to create great blueberry muffins without measuring any of the ingredients, she was recognized as “a good cook” who “was known for her ability to make them.”
Additionally, the obituary that was written for Harrelson’s elder brother William, who was 73 years old at the time of his death, started with the following line: “The world may not be as funny of a place for a little bit as we had to say goodbye to William Forrest Davenport on April 5th.”
The obituary that Novak is referring to for her uncle, who lived “about five minutes from me,” was described as “very nice.” In addition to this, she asserts that her mother conducted at least two separate searches of her uncle’s residence after he passed away.
Novak claims that her mother, who had previously worked as a correctional officer at Maine State Prison, passed away many months before anybody in the family became aware of her passing.
After having a conversation with a friend about how things had been “too quiet lately,” Novak, who had not talked to her mother in ten years, claims that she did not find out what had occurred until after the conversation started. A death notification from a crematorium appeared on her Google search results when she looked for her mother’s name.
“When I messaged my aunt, who is her identical twin sister, I was like, ‘Did Mom die?'” And she is saying things like, “I don’t know.” According to Novak. “After doing some thorough research, I found out that it was her.”
As Novak was growing up, she claims that her mother “took sport in ruining every birthday and Christmas” and that she played cruel pranks on her when she was just a young child. For example, she is said to have taken her to the top of a bridge and had her and her partner grab Novak’s legs and arms and act as if they were going to throw her into the water below.
“I still can’t drive over a bridge without getting an anxiety attack,” admits Novak in response.
Therefore, she had no trouble writing down her genuine emotions; the only thing that prevented her from doing so was the supposed price tag of $1.25 per word. In fact, she believes that writing it down was a therapeutic experience for her. To put it another way, “Hold my beer.”
According to Novak, she made sure to acquire her aunt’s okay before submitting her four phrases. She did this before turning them in. For more than twenty-four hours, she did not get a response. A misspelling was the only thing that her aunt noticed when she made it, according to her.
The statement that she made was, “It’s destruction, not distraction,” according to Novak.
On the other hand, it was meant to be something that was only viewed by her family and the little town that she lives in in Maine, whom she characterizes as “very private people.” Her statements, on the other hand, were an instantaneous subject of conversation among a large number of individuals who were not really aware of what they were experiencing.
“Some individuals are of the opinion that, ‘Why even say anything? “She is no longer alive,” Novak adds, but she also makes the point that there are instances when “someone finally has the power to say something” is not until a person has passed away.
In addition to that, she shares her thoughts, stating, “I believe that my Uncle Bill would have found it amusing.”