Memento mori

How many funerals have you been to?
I've been to a LOT. Mostly because I worked for a funeral home for a year.

I miss a lot of things about it. For one thing it was peaceful. Generally, low stress. (After all, the worst was over for a lot of those folks.) Secondly, I could be unabashedly kind to people which I took a great pleasure in. Thirdly, the people who do that sort of work are good people. My co-workers were decent to their clients and to one another. Nice.

It's true, I saw some strange things and visited some places I'd never though I'd go. But I never saw anything I would consider gross or anything that gave me nightmares. Working there gave me a deeper understanding of the process of grief.

If you were wondering, I was the one in the black suit standing at the door or the back of the chapel. I would set up the chairs, cue the music, set out photos or flower arrangements. I'd help folks find the coat room or get them a cup of coffee. Minor things that they would thank me up and down for at the end of the day. Simple kindness.

I won't ever forget the biker funeral where the family requested to pour beer in the casket, how they slipped me a mini schnapps bottle and invited me out to the bar as they left. Or the inner city funeral where the son dropped to the ground wailing. (An outpouring of emotion seemed more natural to me than the people who held everything in.) Military honors like a color guard, bagpipes or a rifle salute always impacted me no matter how many times I saw them. I was privy to customs and religions, and afforded an intimate glimpse into people's lives, and their deaths.

I will never forget the funeral of an infant, the heartbreaking photos of the young couple holding their stillborn child. Their blank and empty stares. Many, many times I hid my own tears and many times I drove home thanking my lucky stars relieved that the people I love are still alive.

Confronting mortality on a daily basis is draining and I'm sure that's why there's a lot of burnout in the funerary profession. A general sense of humor is essential to break ongoing tension and to maintain a healthy perspective. I felt sorrow get under my skin a few times but managed it well enough for the time I was there.

I heard "Amazing grace" at least once a week and Louis Armstrong's "Wonderful world" too many times to count. I drove the hearse once. It was November and the roads were slippery. Going across town I was crazy nervous until I reminded myself that my passenger was already deceased, what was the worst that could happen?

One of our tasks during the funeral was moving the casket from the visitation room to the chapel as visitors seated themselves for the service. This is done behind curtains, and the casket is wheeled through a narrow hallway from one room to the other. One funeral director affectionally called it " the magic trick" and I came up with a magic word: "Abracadaver"!

I left the job because a local museum offered me a position in my field that was higher paying and gave me more hours. It was a difficult decision because I found working for a funeral home rewarding. I felt honored to be part of those people's passings and in bestowing simple kindness and respect to their families and friends I felt as if I was doing my part to honor them.

It's good to keep mortality in mind. It keeps us from taking things and people for granted and reminds us to live in the moment. Blessings all.