Archive for year 2012
“They’ll be happy”
Says my grandfather as he looks at the handsome face of a 13 year old boy lying motionless on our stretcher.
The last time the family saw him was a couple days before Easter.
Now, a day removed from Easter, they will view the body of their son one final time before he’s taken to the crematory.
Mothers dread walking into their son’s room and finding their boy making out with a girl. They don’t look forward to walking into their son’s room and finding them with cigarette in hand.
But few mothers have experienced this: walking into your son’s room to find him lying on the floor with his face distorted and discolored from livor mortis. It was a heart problem that the doctors said was under the control of proper medication.
The mother came through our door with a laugh, trailed by her husband (the father), their son and a couple friends.
They couldn’t have done this alone. “Thank God for the blessings of friends and family” I think to myself.
Those laughs are now tears as they cut some of the locks of his hair and place them neatly in our small keepsake bags. My dad walks past me and says, “Hardest thing I have to see today.” That after he embalmed a 47 year old cancer patient in the morning and then held the hand of the cancer patient’s wife while she made arrangements.
Silence.
10 minutes pass.
15.
Tears communicate instead of their words.
My dad walks past me again, this time exhaling a massive sigh.
“He looks so good”, one of them says.
We’ve done what we can to remove the livor, leaving his facial skin looking like that of a china doll. And once they begin walking away from the stretcher, the laughter begins again.
I go back and forth with myself in my head:
“It’s got to be unhealthy for them to be laughing.”
“Maybe, but how would you feel when the last time you saw your son’s face it was discolored?”
“But this is so unnatural! The whole thing … the death itself, the way they found him and now … laughter?!?”
“Imagine all the darkness they’ve seen … and now this little glimmer of light … small as it may be … they can see their son one last time the way they remember him. Something as simple as his cleared up skin may be the brightest thought they’ve had for days. Let them laugh now … there will be plenty of crying to do later. They’ve confronted their fears just now. They remember the love they shared. Let them have this moment.”
And with that I consoled myself; reassuring myself that when a child dies, sometimes, somehow … it can be natural for parents to leave the funeral home happy.
****
As with all my post, circumstances have been changed and rearranged so as to protect the privacy of this family.
On Being the Author of Relevant Magazine’s 2011 “Most Popular Article”
I have my twitter account synced to my cell phone, which Nicki hates because every time I receive a new twitter follower, my cell phone beeps. And although I don’t have numerous twitter followers, every once in a while …
In the middle of a funeral: “Beep!”
In the middle of dinner: “Beep!”
In the middle of the night: “Beep!”
I’d turn my cell phone off, but I’m on call 24/7, every day of the week so I have to keep it on.
This past Friday night at around 11 PM my phone starts going off about every 30 seconds, notifying me of a new twitter follower. After about a dozen new twitter followers I begin to get slightly suspicious and start doing some Twitter research to see why so many people would want to follow a funeral director.
And then I see this:
“I wrote that”, I thought to myself.
I was pretty sure it was a mistake, so I replied:
To which Relevant responded:
To be fair – for those of you who aren’t familiar with StumbleUpon – the effect of SU can produce a false positive in that the hits SU produces are more quantity and less quality. Yes, I beat out Rock Star Rob Bell’s exclusive interview with Relevant … but let’s be serious, I’m just a funeral director.
But still … more hits than an exclusive interview with Rob Bell … at the height of “Love Wins”?!?!
I went to bed with my head expanding with hot air as I pondered this question:, “Hmmm … what perks does this accomplishment entitle me to at the Funeral Home?”
Maybe a couple “Get out of Doing Morgue Work” passes.
Sporting a normal plastic morgue apron, with fashionable scarf and the traditional "funeral director smile". Also, I'm sick in this photo.
Could I get a company car that’s a Lamborghini converted into a hearse?
Possibly I’m entitled to a golden Trocar with my name engraved in it.
Or, maybe they should make a prize that’s given to the most famous funeral director in Parkesburg, and give out the inaugural trophy to yours truly.
Instead of a trophy, maybe the prize could be a diamond encrusted, genuine leather morgue apron that says, “Most Famous Funeral Director in Parkesburg 2011.”
Actually, though, I’m more like the fifth famous funeral director in Parkesburg. As we’re the only funeral home in Parkesburg and the rest of my family is by far much more well known than me. People still say, “Oh, you’re Bill’s son” or, “You must be Bud’s grandson.” Few here in Parkesburg know my first name.
I couldn’t in good conscious take that diamond crusted apron of awesomeness.
Then I speculated, “Could Rob Bell call me up and want to prearrange his funeral with me?” Then I could hold the title as “The Only Man to Bury Rob Bell.”
Maybe the Relevant post entitles me to a raise at the funeral home … and at this point in my late night day dreaming I started to fall asleep. Only to be awoken early the next morning (New Year’s Eve) by the sound of my buzzing phone.
“Hellooo” I said in a voice that was attempting to mask the fact that I just woke up. It was my dad on the other line and I could tell his tone that he was a step away from being peeved.
“Didn’t you get my text?” he asked.
“No.” I responded, “My phone was on vibrate last night.” I said this while thinking to myself “it’s on vibrate because I’m so freakin famous.”
“Well, I texted you some time ago. We have a call at the hospital. Get your clothes on and come to work.”
Reality sets in. The expanded cabaza begins to deflate. No diamond encrusted apron awaits me. No “Get out of Doing Morgue Work” passes. And since I’m late, there will definitely be no raise.
****
This “most popular article” news comes at about the one year anniversary of me deciding it’s time to get serious about writing/blogging.
That commitment to blogging coincided with me finding Bryan Allain’s blog and buying his book. Now, a year later, I’m beginning to touch a small segment of the world where Jesus likes to dwell … with the weak and the broken. I want to see people worship God through their sorrow. That’s why I write.
Maybe next year I’ll get my diamond studded morgue apron.
