Requiem

I went to a memorial service for my friend yesterday. He died a couple of weeks ago. He was a really cool guy. Certainly one of the coolest I have ever known. The "service" was perfect. It was in a bar/restaurant, people spoke that knew him well. People gathered, and cried, and laughed and were present for each other. Friends came from afar. Love was felt for those alive and for the memories of those who no longer are.

My friend’s body was cremated a few weeks ago. Another funeral home took care of that responsibility. I am glad that I didn't have to. I also wish that I could have undertaken that for the family. It really didn't matter; the funeral home didn't matter very much. I am beginning to think that the funeral home in general, does not matter very much.

I have a model in my head for the future of society and its relationship with "death-care". More and more it is less and less about what I do for most people on a daily basis. I am really getting sick of not being able to say what I truly feel. I say it here but I think I am the only one that reads this anyway.

If we are going to grow, we need to let go. If we are to see the future, we need to stop living in the past.

My friend lived his life pretty fiercely, and for that, he might have left us earlier than what might be thought of as usual. The sadness of his passing (to me) is the partaking of the mass selfishness that most humans buy into during the death of a loved one. We don't want them to go because we were not finished with them yet. It's not fair because we weren't done. I had more to say to that boy and I am damn sure I wanted him to tell me more.

My friends death, along with a special family I helped this week whose baby died, (this is the second child in 1 year) has put me in the bubble. I am not seeing from the perspective of those who have not lost, I am on the inside looking out. I am feeling the loss and looking at those who have not. I preach about this perspective a lot but have not been here in a long time. It makes me question my worth. It allows me to think about the future. I am reeling from the responsibility of humanness and this burden tires me. I am depressed at the current state of things.

I love you all. I miss the ones that are dead. I will never forget the time we shot the gap on the Missouri. We screamed and thought we would surely die. The others slept. Amen.

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I am publishing this post because it was/is supposed to go into a major industry journal soon. If/when it does, my cover as A. Mortican will/could be blown. I don't care anymore. I am finding myself in a strange place over the last couple of weeks. I think I might post preceedingly to this fact if I can get my thoughts down in a succinct way. I am doubting that I can.

Anyway. I apologize to you for yet again another rehashed version of what I always seem to be saying. This next spillage should shed some light as to my feelings about what a mortician should be, but at the same time, you've heard it from me before.

I have been very fortunate. I learned my skills from some of the best mentors one could have. Some were very skilled in the embalming arts. Others were compassionate. A few, who taught me the most, were terrible funeral directors that explained to me every day, in their actions and deeds, who I did not ever want to become. I have had wonderful teachers, each of which I have borrowed or stolen wisdom from and made it my own. I have taken from them and uniformly infected myself and anyone else that would listen. I got to take my time. I have been fortunate enough to slowly evolve into what I am becoming today. There were times working outside funeral service that I got to think almost solely (and soul-ly) about funeral service and how it affects me and everyone else. I was very fortunate to be able to take part in copious amounts of extra education not related to funeral service and completely apply it to funeral service. Film, literature, religion, economics, science, psychology, philosophy, and I think most importantly, art, have all been primers to what would eventually become my funeral service education. I am most fortunate now to have my home support staff, my wife and two children, whom without I could not be who I have the privilege of being today. My wife understands what I do like none of my peers ever will. She has been there and watched it take hold. She has seen me evolve and not only understands, but respects and encourages. I am very fortunate. Lastly I suppose, I am most fortunate to work where I do. I am given the free reign that I need to accomplish what I desire. I work for a family and we are a family. I am not one of their blood but they have accepted me as one of their own. We share a common goal and this binds us. We are here to serve.

Let me just start by saying that what I have to write about are simply observations. I do not really believe that what I am going to rant on about here (and border on preach) can be taught, marketed, commodified, or explained well enough to soak up and start anew. I have a need to take to task what I think is “wrong” with the way that I see many in our profession are doing business. I am not an expert in anything. No one is.

How To Be Really Good Funeral Director.

or

(Why Everything You Think Is Wrong.)

by A.Mortician

There are a few things you probably need to let go of. First off, you need to get rid of your ego. It's not about you; it's about where “you” are at. I believe the most important quality a funeral director can have is presence, and by presence I mean a few things. 1. Confidence. True confidence is not about you, it's about what you can give to them. A family needs someone who can look them in the eye and convey “I know what I am doing and I want to do it because I love and care about you” You can't tell a family that, they need to feel it. If you are not confident in that belief in yourself, you cannot do it for them. 2. Self-Esteem. If you do not love yourself, you will not be able to love anyone else. You need to love them. You need to love them even if they cold, uncaring, distanced, distrusting, dysfunctional, ego-tripping maniacs. You need to love them if they are loving, broken, devastated, lost, unknowing, or sad. You need to love them if they are broke. You need to love them if they are rich. You need to be able to have enough in yourself to be able to give some up for others. 3. Compassion. You need to be able to invest yourself into the family by way of your heart. You need to be able to care about their emotional well-being because you love them and they need you right now. They need to know you care about them. You can't tell them this; they need to feel it from your heart.

I can hear your groans from here. I can almost feel your eyeballs rolling. I ask you now; can you argue with any of what I just said in the paragraph above? I ask you now, are you doing this? Can you do it? I say that if you can't then you really don't know what you are doing and I really wish that you would find another profession. I will also say that this is certainly not an easy task and don't think that I believe that it is. Don't believe that I have these abilities at all times. I do believe that it is the bar that we need to set for ourselves if we want our profession to survive with any dignity intact.

Being present means emotionally investing ones self into the process without thinking about it. It's not hard work it's just how you get the job done. If you are truly present, and can be a part of the families grief process, rather than the inevitable middle-man that most of the public views us as, then you will help them walk down the path that you DO know something about. You have the skills and training to fill in the blanks and make the calls, you simply need to back up the cold calculating facts with your heart. If you see yourself (and maybe your state allows you this travesty) as one who is simply there to take the order and pass it on down the line to the next order taker, then I say you are not doing anyone any good at all. If you are in an assembly line mortuary that “serves” thousands of families a year, then I say you are not really a funeral director at all. You are an order taker. You are a robot. The biggest malfunction that occurs in this un-present mode of operation is that the people you are serving DO NOT know what they need. They have never done this before and if they have it was for someone else and that is not the same. It is ALWAYS different and ALWAYS must be treated as a new experience. We cannot take what “we have always done” and use it as a template for what must be done now.

Being emotionally present means crying with your family. It means that you will experience some of the pain that they are feeling. If you cannot be a part of their lives for the incredibly short time we spend with these people, how can you really understand what you are doing at all. Empathy is your best tool for understanding what a family might need from you.

How many times a month, when people find out what you “are” do they ask you “isn't that really depressing/sad”? What do you tell them? This question kills me every time because I know there is no great way of explaining it to them succinctly. Usually I tell them that I am very fortunate to be able do what I do. After you answer this question of depression and sadness, do people ever tell you that they think it takes “a very special to do what you do”? Do you believe them?

Now we can talk on and on about the state of our industry (and we will in subsequent articles if the editor chooses to keep me around) but I would like to just say a few things about why I think the above model is being ignored. When I open up any trade journal, (this one included) or go to a convention, or talk any of my “peers” I continually hear the same things; cremation on the rise, Costco caskets, discount crematories, pre-need marketing, President __________ of __________ association is very excited about the future of funeral service, marketing, marketing, marketing, Rah, Rah, Rah, Blah, Blah, Blah. Please let me stop you right there, I know it's about all those things, I know that those things are all a part of funeral service. HOWEVER, those things are insignificant in comparison to what you really “do” and this is where we lose the sponsors. Casket manufacturers do not help families in times of grief. They are simply there to fulfill a social and traditional role in the way human beings bury their dead. Cremation is another way to take care of our loved ones dead bodies, if you can't understand that or you think that it has to do with money, you are an idiot. The best marketing that you can do is an investment in yourself. If you can do that you will be able to invest in your families. That is really all that you have. Remember always that it is not about you, ever, it's about the people that you serve, twenty-four hours a day, three-hundred-sixty-five days a year. It's not about what you sell them. It's about what you give them. If you are willing to undertake that responsibility, you will prosper.

-A. Mortician