A morgue miracle occurred today. I was doing deeds that are done in prep rooms, deeds that shall not be described in detail in this forum. Unlike many embalmers, we use an old school electric aspirator instead of a hydro-aspirator. One of the disadvantages to the electric aspirator is that the aspirated contents go into a little container (shown above) that has to be removed from the vacuum tubing when full so that the contents can be dumped down the drain.
Also of note, this container is glass.
Suffice it to say that the contents in the container are not worth saving.
I got to sleep at 2 AM this morning. I’m tired. I went to grab the container and somehow it slipped out of my hand. Now, I’ve played this situation in my head on a number of occasions. My grandfather and I joke that if we ever break or spill said container that we’ll both just quit the business right then and there instead of having to clean it all up off the morgue floor.
I can still see the glass container slip out of my hand.  You know how your brain slows down when something drops?  How two seconds feel like five minutes?  That how I felt.
But then something amazing happened.  I caught it with my foot.  I played soccer a little it middle school.  I was horrible at hacky sack, so I only played that as long as my pride would let me.  I am not fleet of foot.
I kicked my foot out and cradled container in the space between the top of my foot and curve of my ankle.  I quickly lowered my foot and set it on the ground.
I was so amazed that I stopped what I was doing and went and told my dad, who didn’t reciprocate my excitement.
I, on the other hand, am the happiest I’ve been in a long time.  Somehow, my foot might have just saved me from quitting.  Cheers!

Another miracle that I’d like to see is this book in your hands.  If you like funeral stories, you’ll like this:

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