Epitaphs—text carved into gravestones to honor the dead—have evolved over the centuries with changing religious and cultural beliefs. What once implored those passing to “remember this” now say “remember me.”

In 18th-century America, evocations of skulls and crossbones reflected a bleak Puritan picture of the afterlife. Messages repeated throughout burial grounds urged the bereaved to repent and prepare for judgment with gravestone tympanum-top refrains of “O! Relentless Death!” and “Memento Mori” (“remember you must die”).  

But as Victorian ideals took hold in the 1800s, so did a romanticized view of mortality. Cherubs, flowers and bird symbology came to replace skulls, and cemeteries became landscaped parks where families picnicked among the dearly departed. Epitaph imperatives were softened to phrases like “Budded on earth to bloom in heaven,” and “Gone home.”

As life expectancies lengthened and engraving technology improved, epitaphs became more celebratory, reflecting the unique personalities of the deceased (as with hypochondriac B.P. Roberts’ famous “I told you I was sick”). Alongside increased customization, an outlier emerged and, almost 30 years after its inception, went viral: headstone recipes.