THE BUSINESS OF DEATH

I have very little tolerance for the funeral business. Until now, I had only been a "patron" of such business upon the death of a grand parent and then it was very much on the sidelines. Oh, and when I worked in a nursing home; and then it was a little more up front.

Perhaps it is because they work around grief all day every day, and they have to build a wall of stoicism around them; but these people CREEP ME OUT. My apologies to anybody reading this who may work in a funeral home, has a relative who works in a funeral home, or aspires to one day work in a funeral home, but I am in a period of bereavement so I get to say whatever I want.


I know a man who USED to run a funeral home. He got out of that business because it was too emotionally draining on him. His wife knew the end of that career was near when she caught him one night ironing a little pink baby dress. Some parents had brought the dress in so that their infant daughter could be buried in it. He thought the dress was too wrinkled to be put upon that precious angel, so he brought it home to iron it before dressing the baby for her funeral. I always say his heart was too big to work in the business of grief.

Anyway, yesterday my sister, one brother, and I were meeting at the florist to choose some flowers. On my drive over (about an hour's drive) my aunt called and asked if we could stop by the funeral home after we left the florist to approve the obituary and funeral cards. I was told he must have our final approval before 3:00 so he could get the obituary to the papers. So we three siblings decided to go to the funeral home first, since we had a deadline with them.

So we show up and the funeral guy says "I wasn't expecting you now. Your aunt said you'd be coming here after the florist. I'm due in another town." And my sister started falling all over herself apologizing. There was no way on God's Green Earth I was going to apologize to this man. We (and by we, I mean my dad and step mom) were spending LOTS and LOTS of money so this man could bury our father and "be there for us in our time of sorrow." So I simply said "We decided to come here first because we were told you had a deadline to keep regarding the obituary. We thought this would be the best way to handle things and allow you to meet your deadline with the paper." And his son piped up and said "oh, and we really appreciate that."

(and I'm sorry for the frequent use of the term "deadline" how inappropriate...or appropriate...whatever)

And, by the way, they were not due in another town to oversee another service. They were needing to meet with some roofers to go over a bid on another one of their funeral homes. And when the son said "Dad, you don't need to come with me to meet with the roofers," the dad said "I need to be there. There's a lot at stake."

Oh no he didn't!! Oh no he didn't just imply that his roofing project was more important than my dad's funeral.

This man did not look me in the eyes one time. Not even when he mumbled how sorry he was for our loss.

This man kept calling Marilyn "your mom." My sister finally said "I need to clarify something for you. Marilyn is our stepmother. I'm just afraid if you refer to her as our mom around certain people you will offend them." And he said "Oh, well, there's a lot of people to keep track of."

Umm...isn't that a huge aspect of his business? You know? PEOPLE?

I mean, we kept saying "Marilyn this. Marilyn that." How many middle aged people call their mom by her first name? I'm thinking very few.

When I left that funeral home I sat in the car and rubbed anti-bacterial soap all over my hands. If I had been near a toilet, I'm afraid I would have found myself vomiting into it.

Oh, and another thing. The son and the young woman working there were both in jeans and tennis shoes, which I found highly insulting. You don't run a business like that and greet mourners in jeans and tennis shoes. Am I being too picky on that?
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One more incident that has me seeing red will, I'm afraid, result in a strongly worded letter when things have slowed down. The mortuary where my dad was cremated allowed us to have a private viewing before the cremation was performed. The room was set up much like it would be for a standard visitation, except there were not many flowers - just a few that my brothers had placed by the casket. Dad was placed in a very simple casket, dressed in a suit and tie. My brothers had bought two potted flowers to place on the floor, and a spray of red, white and blue flowers that set atop the casket. It was very nice for our brief private time with him.

Here's the thing. And I hope it has all of you seething like it does me.

When my brother requested the viewing the owner of the mortuary - RICHARD - said that would be acceptable. They would place the body of our father on a cot UNCLOTHED and covered with a sheet up to his neck.

Yes, you read that correctly. That is how they thought we four children should view our father for the last time.

I only wish I could have heard my brother, the former master sergeant, respond to that suggestion.

What kind of human being who deals daily with people in mourning suggests such a despicable thing? What kind of mind even thinks of that? It is so despicable I can't even type the words again. I cannot comprehend suggesting that to a man who has just lost his father. I am sickened and disgusted.

And I am sorry for my brother in having to deal with that, yet another horrendous detail in completing the business of death. Who knows what battle he had to fight to allow our father to be presented to his children with dignity. And why? Why should that have even been a battle?

I fully intend to make sure I have every detail correct on this and then write a very harsh letter to RICHARD regarding his cold hearted behavior.

I think our ancestors had it correct when they simply buried their dead on family land, placed wild flowers upon the grave, and used their energy to properly grieve.