Calendar An icon of a desk calendar. Cancel An icon of a circle with a diagonal line across. Caret An icon of a block arrow pointing to the right. Email An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of the Facebook "f" mark. Google An icon of the Google "G" mark. Linked In An icon of the Linked In "in" mark. Logout An icon representing logout. Profile An icon that resembles human head and shoulders. Telephone An icon of a traditional telephone receiver. Tick An icon of a tick mark. Is Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes. Is Not Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes with a diagonal line through it. Pause Icon A two-lined pause icon for stopping interactions. Quote Mark A opening quote mark. Quote Mark A closing quote mark. Arrow An icon of an arrow. Folder An icon of a paper folder. Breaking An icon of an exclamation mark on a circular background. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Caret An icon of a caret arrow. Clock An icon of a clock face. Close An icon of the an X shape. Close Icon An icon used to represent where to interact to collapse or dismiss a component Comment An icon of a speech bubble. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Ellipsis An icon of 3 horizontal dots. Envelope An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Home An icon of a house. Instagram An icon of the Instagram logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. Magnifying Glass An icon of a magnifying glass. Search Icon A magnifying glass icon that is used to represent the function of searching. Menu An icon of 3 horizontal lines. Hamburger Menu Icon An icon used to represent a collapsed menu. Next An icon of an arrow pointing to the right. Notice An explanation mark centred inside a circle. Previous An icon of an arrow pointing to the left. Rating An icon of a star. Tag An icon of a tag. Twitter An icon of the Twitter logo. Video Camera An icon of a video camera shape. Speech Bubble Icon A icon displaying a speech bubble WhatsApp An icon of the WhatsApp logo. Information An icon of an information logo. Plus A mathematical 'plus' symbol. Duration An icon indicating Time. Success Tick An icon of a green tick. Success Tick Timeout An icon of a greyed out success tick. Loading Spinner An icon of a loading spinner. Facebook Messenger An icon of the facebook messenger app logo. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Facebook Messenger An icon of the Twitter app logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. WhatsApp Messenger An icon of the Whatsapp messenger app logo. Email An icon of an mail envelope. Copy link A decentered black square over a white square.

Lindsay Bruce: Bench the idea of flowerless memorials and sit among the memories

'These aren't solely there to provide seating. They're there to evoke memories. They're there because somebody somewhere still wants there to be a place for their granda, or their granny, their mum or their dad, and even their kids to sit beside them.'

Memorial benches are a reminder of people who once lived.
Memorial benches are a reminder of people who once lived.

So Aberdeen City Council is doubling down on its rules when it comes to what should and shouldn’t be left around the city’s statues and memorials.

While flowers will be deemed okay for open spaces and large memorials, the humble memorial bench has its own regulations.

No plastic, not even fresh floral tributes. Such tokens will be collected and binned.

I can’t speak for how these things impact larger statues but when it comes to memorial benches I’m fairly confident I have a stronger connection than most.

A Place to Remember

Over the last 18 months, I’ve been telling some of the hidden tales behind Aberdeen’s many benches. I’ve pounded the Esplanade, scoured parks and meandered around the Don and the Dee reading the plaques, and uncovering some heartwarming and gut-wrenching stories.

On any given day I’ll come across a bench with flowers on it.

Sometimes it’s an artificial arrangement cable-tied to the structure, but more often than not I see real flowers and foliage placed on one side of the seat.

Plastic flowers are seen tied to one of the many memorial benches that run along Aberdeen beach. Image: Ben Hendry/DC Thomson

One of the arguments for legislating against leaving such tributes is that it could prohibit people from using the benches. I suppose that could be the case if the entire seating area is covered, however, I’m yet to see such a thing.

What I do see time and again, is the marked disparity between benches treated lovingly adorned by flowers or an odd card and those that receive no such TLC.

Deterrent to vandalism

There’s a seat next to the Brig O’Balgownie that I’m currently researching. It sits amidst a dozen makeshift memorial plaques on trees.

Lindsay Bruce with her dog Barley near the memorial bench for Billy and Dos Catto on the bank of the River Don near the Cottown of Balgownie. Picture by Kami Thomson / DC Thomson

Beside each of those, there’s a myriad of laminated cards, trinkets, fairy memorabilia, some silk flowers that have seen better days and every now and again a fresh bouquet. I’m deliberately not sharing a photo because I would hate them to be taken away.

But FYI – these are specifically the kinds of ad hoc, permissionless epitaphs which will also be removed. However, by stark comparison, the bench – and the people it’s there to memorialise – is going to ruin.

The weathered plaque of a memorial bench near the Don. Picture by Kami Thomson / DC Thomson `

Sure, it’s a wooden bench and many of the seats around the city are now being replaced by composite benches in dark colours to discourage such treatment and decay, but my point is this: for as long as families leave flowers, someone is looking after that bench.

And for as long as floral tributes are placed there – a universal sign that someone special is worthy of being remembered – it dissuades graffiti.

We need more gestures of love, not less

I have to be honest, I feel sad that it’s someone’s job to remove fresh flowers from these treasured places. Just the other day I walked past Ronnie’s bench where a bunch of wild flowers had been placed.

Flowers on Ronnie Morrison’s memorial bench. Image: Lindsay Bruce

Since writing about Ronnie I’ve become friends with his wife, Eleanor. Most days I take my dog past ‘Ronnie’ and I gotta tell you, it wouldn’t be unknown for me to blether away like Ronnie’s sitting there himself.

Seeing flowers gave me pause for reflection. A special anniversary no doubt. A symbol of love. And my goodness, we need more not less of them.

Sitting amidst memories

And I think this is where we need to stop for a moment. See, these aren’t solely there to provide seating. They’re there to evoke memories. They’re there because somebody somewhere still wants there to be a place for their granda, or their granny, their mum or their dad, and even their kids to sit beside them.

Gravestones are wonderful, but I never once went to a cemetery with my Papa. I did, however, sit with him on a bench in Millport, watching the Waverly chug down the Clyde. If I sit there I don’t sit alone. The same will be true all around this Granite City of ours.

The spot where a dad and son would go fishing. That place where a mum went pregnant, but then lost her baby. That view that they returned to every year on their holidays. The last place a father met his son.

Lindsay’s niece and dog next to a memorial bench dedicated to Vikram Reddy.

These aren’t just places to park our behinds, they are immersive memorials inviting us to sit down, to read the plaque, to think, maybe even pray for the family mentioned.

Cashing in on grief?

If the seats are there as purely a solution to weary legs, are we not exploiting the bereaved? These things aren’t free. It can cost hundreds – sometimes thousands – to place a bench or add a plaque. So we’ll take their money because it’s a memorial, but then not let them use it as such?

I understand a drive to rid the city, and the wider world, of single-use and disposable plastic. I’m all on board for rubbish being taken away. But if the biggest issue we face is a few withered leaves gracing the – let’s be honest – usually haar-covered memorial seats of Aberdeen, we’re doing no’ bad.

As more and more people opt for cremation, and fewer places become available for burials, I suspect, I hope, we’ll see a surge in creativity when it comes to keeping the memories of our loved ones alive.

Maybe the answer is to plan for such a thing and not prohibit it.

If shopping trolleys can have a flower compartment why can’t a memorial bench?


Lindsay Bruce is an obituary writer for the Press and Journal and Evening Express

Conversation