The design and inscription of a gravestone can say surprisingly much about the person who rests there.
A QR plaque can make the memorial site even more personal—and almost alive—through text, images, video, and music.
Images: Courtesy by Livsbrickan.se
How does it work?
You can purchase a QR plaque when ordering the gravestone through a funeral home or stonemason, or you can buy one from an independent provider.
In other words, you don’t have to decide at the time of the funeral.
The small, discreet QR plaque is then attached to the gravestone, either by the stonemason or by yourself.
The plaque is made of weather-resistant metal and can be removed without damaging the stone.
You decide what the QR code links to and can update or change the content whenever you like.
Using a smartphone, visitors scan the QR code and follow the link it points to.
This could be a memorial page included with the QR plaque, a website you’ve created yourself, or a platform such as YouTube.
What does it cost?
Prices vary depending on the company and what is included in the service.
Expect a price range of approximately 600–2,000 SEK.
Think about what you want to get out of the service and choose a provider that offers that.
As mentioned earlier, there is no rush—so don’t feel pressured to decide whether to purchase one (or not) while you’re in the middle of making many other decisions surrounding a funeral.
What can you link to?
What a QR code links to is not regulated as strictly as, for example, the inscription on the gravestone—but there are still things worth considering.
Think of the QR plaque as a complement to the gravestone..
▪️ A photo collage that wouldn’t fit on the stone.
▪️ A document with personal stories and memories that can’t be conveyed in a short line of text.
▪️ A playlist on, for example, YouTube—with music that would have been played if the gravestone had a “Play” button.
▪️ A video with greetings from the bereaved, or even one pre-recorded by the deceased themselves.
With a memorial page (created by you or included in the service), you can share all this and much more.
The possibilities are many when it comes to keeping memories alive and making a person’s legacy more accessible to those of us who never had the chance to meet them.
I enjoy studying gravestones when I wander through a cemetery. On a few occasions, I’ve come across stones with QR codes, and there’s something special about being able to see, hear, or read about the person behind the name. It almost feels like being present at the funeral or memorial service after the fact.
At the same time, I understand those who don’t want this—or who are completely opposed to it.
People are complex, and we all carry our own image of a person.
“Let the dead remain dead,” if that is what you prefer.
What do you think about QR plaques on gravestones? What would your QR code link to?
A short story with Quinley & Herrow
Who are Quinley and Herrow?
In Coffinfolk Café’s stand alone short stories, you’ll meet two most unlikely friends:
Quinley – Coffinfolk’s café host. A young woman who loves life just as much as she loves exploring the cultural heritage of death and sharing advice, information, and insights that can help people – whether they are facing their own encounter with Death or living with grief.
Herrow – Death himself. He may look frightening in his black cloak, but beneath the bones is a kind soul who enjoys a cup of coffee and sharing experiences gathered from every corner of time.
You can find a longer introduction + a short story about their first meeting HERE
“A Hunt for Memories Among the Graves"
Narrated by Quinley
I grabbed my mitten to stifle my laughter. On my phone screen, a clown danced around and “accidentally” fumbled, making the children sitting on the floor nearby shriek with laughter.
Mikael had worked as a clown, and now he continued to spread joy even after his death.
“Few things are as wonderful to hear as children’s laughter,” Herrow chuckled beside me.
I nodded discreetly and slipped the phone back into my pocket. I wasn’t alone in the cemetery today, and I didn’t want the other visitors to think I was talking to myself if they couldn’t see the reaper keeping me company.
Snow lay thick across the ground, making the inscriptions on the gravestones hard to read.
Herrow, however, had a keen eye for spotting which stones had QR plaques, so I could scan them with my phone and get an image—and often much more than that—of the person resting there.
Today’s haul included, among other things, a cake recipe and a couple of new artists I wanted to listen to when I got home. I’d also learned that a whole bunch of sports nerds were buried here—some had played themselves, while others had cheered faithfully from the stands.
An elderly gentleman stood a short distance away, tapping at his own phone. Judging by the sounds, it wasn’t going very well. I edged a little closer, with Herrow trailing behind me.
“Is the technology giving you trouble?” I asked gently, glancing at the gravestone he was standing by. It was covered in snow, but the small QR plaque in one corner had been brushed clean.
“Smart phone—dumb user…” the old man muttered with a frustrated sigh. “You grew up with this stuff, didn’t you? Could you show me how to read that scribble?” He pointed at the QR plaque.
“Of course,” I said, pulling out my phone again. I swiped my thumb across the screen and showed him how to scan the code. “See? Easy as pie! Now you try.” The man followed my example. “Look at that—smart phone, teachable user,” I giggled, earning a crooked smile in return.
“I like wandering around in here,” he said after a moment. “It’s peaceful, in a way.” He shrugged. “That probably sounds strange to you?”
“Not at all. I do the same,” I replied. Just wait until you find out where I work—and maybe allow yourself to see who’s standing right here with us, I thought to myself.
We walked around together for over an hour, searching for QR plaques. It almost turned into a kind of treasure hunt for memories. I showed him Agnes’s cake recipe too, of course.
It made us both crave coffee, so I invited him along to Coffinfolk.
He couldn’t see or hear Herrow, and probably didn’t entirely believe that I—or anyone else—could. But he had already proven that he wasn’t foolish, just willing to learn. And if he ever wanted to understand more, I was sure that would sort itself out too.