Comments on: Thank Your Funeral Director http://www.calebwilde.com/2012/08/thank-your-funeral-director/ Working at the Crossroads of this World and the Next Thu, 23 May 2013 14:28:00 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.4.2 By: Auntie J http://www.calebwilde.com/2012/08/thank-your-funeral-director/#comment-7058 Auntie J Wed, 15 Aug 2012 03:14:00 +0000 http://www.calebwilde.com/?p=4666#comment-7058 My father-in-law passed away over 13 years ago now, and I still miss him dearly. I was more of a wreck than my mother-in-law was, which was embarrassing. But I loved him. A lot. My husband and his family had had nearly 9 years of "expecting" Dad to not make it, so they'd kind of done this whole grief-cycle thing several times, and they were much more at peace with things than I was. Not that I doubted where my father-in-law was; he was a Christian. It didn't make my grief any less razor-sharp. (It didn't stop me from wanting to punch my husband every time he said "Hallelujah" during the funeral service, either.) I'd only "had" Dad for a little over 2.5 years. Hubby and I hadn't even hit our 3rd anniversary. I was NOT ready to say goodbye, and I sure didn't want to. I knew Dad was ready, and that was great. I wasn't, and there wasn't any amount of consoling pat answers that made me feel better at the time. Dad wasn't very demonstrative, like a lot of men from his generation, but I loved him dearly, and I went through a great deal of self-doubt and wished desperately that I could tell him one last time how MUCH I loved him. I was devastated. If that wasn't bad enough, my in-laws were from a VERY small town. You know those Hee-Haw salute towns? That's where my husband grew up. Smalltownsville, PA, population 1017. ONE funeral home in town. And everybody knows everybody else. I felt like the worst kind of outsider. Hubby's brother's wife was local. Hubby's sister's husband had been in the family for more than two decades. They knew people. People knew them. And then there was me. Everybody knew who I was. I knew maybe 50 people in town, most of them from Hubby's home church. His family was a fixture in town, really, so everybody knew Dad, and came to pay their respects. By the time I got through the second calling hours, I was ready to scream if one more person came up and told me how sorry they were for my loss. I didn't know them from a hole in the wall. I didn't know if they were sincere or if they were just saying things. I hated that they acted like they knew me. Before the time of the first calling hours, we had about an hour alone in the funeral home ourselves, just the family. I didn't think I was going to make it. To this day, I will forever love the funeral director, Sam Steff, who chuckled and tossed me a box of tissues from across the room. He later turned a squirt bottle on me in jest. His good-natured and slightly off-beat humor broke up what was an extremely painful and grief-filled time for me. It allowed me to relax and not feel as awkward. I like to think that the thank-you card I sent after we went home was treasured as much as your family obviously treasures the ones you've received. My father-in-law passed away over 13 years ago now, and I still miss him dearly. I was more of a wreck than my mother-in-law was, which was embarrassing. But I loved him. A lot. My husband and his family had had nearly 9 years of “expecting” Dad to not make it, so they’d kind of done this whole grief-cycle thing several times, and they were much more at peace with things than I was. Not that I doubted where my father-in-law was; he was a Christian. It didn’t make my grief any less razor-sharp. (It didn’t stop me from wanting to punch my husband every time he said “Hallelujah” during the funeral service, either.)

I’d only “had” Dad for a little over 2.5 years. Hubby and I hadn’t even hit our 3rd anniversary. I was NOT ready to say goodbye, and I sure didn’t want to. I knew Dad was ready, and that was great. I wasn’t, and there wasn’t any amount of consoling pat answers that made me feel better at the time. Dad wasn’t very demonstrative, like a lot of men from his generation, but I loved him dearly, and I went through a great deal of self-doubt and wished desperately that I could tell him one last time how MUCH I loved him. I was devastated.

If that wasn’t bad enough, my in-laws were from a VERY small town. You know those Hee-Haw salute towns? That’s where my husband grew up. Smalltownsville, PA, population 1017. ONE funeral home in town. And everybody knows everybody else. I felt like the worst kind of outsider. Hubby’s brother’s wife was local. Hubby’s sister’s husband had been in the family for more than two decades. They knew people. People knew them.

And then there was me. Everybody knew who I was. I knew maybe 50 people in town, most of them from Hubby’s home church. His family was a fixture in town, really, so everybody knew Dad, and came to pay their respects. By the time I got through the second calling hours, I was ready to scream if one more person came up and told me how sorry they were for my loss. I didn’t know them from a hole in the wall. I didn’t know if they were sincere or if they were just saying things. I hated that they acted like they knew me.

Before the time of the first calling hours, we had about an hour alone in the funeral home ourselves, just the family. I didn’t think I was going to make it. To this day, I will forever love the funeral director, Sam Steff, who chuckled and tossed me a box of tissues from across the room. He later turned a squirt bottle on me in jest. His good-natured and slightly off-beat humor broke up what was an extremely painful and grief-filled time for me. It allowed me to relax and not feel as awkward.

I like to think that the thank-you card I sent after we went home was treasured as much as your family obviously treasures the ones you’ve received.

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]]> By: Becky Wenrich http://www.calebwilde.com/2012/08/thank-your-funeral-director/#comment-7049 Becky Wenrich Tue, 14 Aug 2012 17:33:00 +0000 http://www.calebwilde.com/?p=4666#comment-7049 That card was from my high school classmate's grandparents. Thank you for being the ones that comforted their family during that tragic time in their lives. And thank you for serving so many others in our community in such an unselfish way. You are appreciated. That card was from my high school classmate’s grandparents. Thank you for being the ones that comforted their family during that tragic time in their lives. And thank you for serving so many others in our community in such an unselfish way. You are appreciated.

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