A Day In The Life Of A Funeral Director

Death in My House

People often ask if it was creepy growing up in a funeral home. No it wasn't. I was just like any other goofy kid, I technically grew up next door to the funeral home in the house that used to be Pray Funeral Home from 1923 until 1950 when the current Pray Funeral Home building was completed on the lot next door.

My friends and cousins would often ask if we could sneak downstairs to see the caskets. Sometimes we would, but usually one of my cousins would turn off the lights and the girls would scream. As they went tearing back up the stairs to safety, Dad or Grandma would be standing at the doorway, and I usually got paddled. But I would still venture down there again with the gang the next time they came over. After all nobody else had such a cool room to a bunch of curious kids. To this day, the only people that want to go into the selection rooms are casket salesmen and the curious little kids.

The next question that many utter when I tell them I'm a funeral director is "Isn't that depressing?" No it isn't. I focus on the ability of my family and staff to help a family through the worst time of their life.

Yes we do feel great sadness about the tragic deaths, any caring person will, but we also see our role as one of support person to help these folks. We know that with help, the grieving family members will be able to work through their grief to rebuild their lives. We know that the service we provide helps the family draw valuable support from the community.

The thanks we often receive when we have completed the services support our own emotions. It makes it much easier to go to the aid of the next family who calls in the middle of the night because some tragedy has taken a member of their family.

And yes every death is a tragedy. Even the ageing grandparent that has succumbed to a lengthy illness. That is a tragedy to their innocent young grandchildren. The magnitude of the tragedy varies for each family and their circumstances.

So what is life like for a small town funeral director?

Hectic.

Some weeks are a constant blur of motion from early morning to early morning the next day. Last week was like that. Summer vacations and travelling requirements of family and staff (in our case staff is often family) had created a shortage of full time staff. This meant that we filled in with our great part time staff members. However, being part time they aren't as fast at some of the tasks, which in a regular week is okay. When we have to shift into overdrive during an extremely busy week, it takes a few more hours to keep up with the required tasks. The days started early, usually around 6:30 or 7:00 am, and often ended for me around 12:30 or 1:00 am the next day. I really don't mind because I know it will slow down again. "I can sleep when I'm old" is what Joe Sr. often says.

This Monday morning started way to early.

I had received a call from a funeral home in a distant city to help a family in our town. The funeral director asked if I could meet a family at their home where their mother had died following a lengthy illness. Due to the distance it would be some time before they could travel to our community. I summoned one of my gentlemen, who actually answered the phone cheerfully at the wee hours of the morning. Jeepers what a pleasant surprise, it just proves that the people who work for us really do enjoy helping folks in need. We arrived at the family's home, answered their questions and transfered the deceased to our funeral home. After the preparations that we were directed to make, I headed back home for a few short hours of sleep during what was left of the darkness of night.

When the sun peaked through the shades, I was already awake thinking over the schedule for the day. I was tempted to just get up and head to the funeral home. It is a daunting trip to the other side of the street. But I had promised myself that I would attend the fitness class that I had signed up for at the local Wellness Center. So in order to keep up with the pace and activities of my sons, I donned by jog suite, Rollerblades, helmet, and crash gear and skated off. After a gruelling hour of yoga/pilates/strength/coordination exercises led by a sweet gal with a slight drill sgt. mentality, I skated back to the funeral home.

As the staff arrived we conduct an early morning discussion of the plan for the day, with the ever present kidding and bits of humor that are always present with our staff. I headed back across the street to get cleaned up and dressed while they started moving the equipment into the cars for a service we would conduct at one of our local churches.

Even when I'm home, I'm not away from the office. Several extensions of the business telephone with intercom capability keep me accessible to the staff for questions, so I'm still at work at home. Not so great if you want to get away, but the phones allow me to spend time at home with family members and friends even when I need to be available to the funeral home.

Meanwhile, the crew is loading cosmetic lights, casket stands, flower stands, extension cords, reserved seating signs, register stands, portable microphones and numerous other little and big items into vans, limousines and whatever other vehicle we can commandeer. Then we load the many flower arrangements into an air-conditioned van, or heated van in the winter time. Flowers are always important in a funeral or memorial service because they are representations of the love and support of friends and family who may not be able to be at the funeral service or visitation in person. So these fragile representatives have to be carefully handled.

When we have everything else is loaded we solemnly load the casket holding the deceased body of someones beloved family member and drive off to the church in a pseudo-funeral procession.

It is always interesting to see other motorists reactions as we approach and pass them by. Some don't have clue that we even exist in their world of morning coffee, cell phone chat, and radio surfing while whizzing through town an their way to their daily grind. Others take notice and seem to pause in thought, maybe in reverence for the person we carry who has lived life but will experience it no more in this dimension of life. And yet others seem to have been startled by our mere presence on the street.

Have a comment on my article? To boring? Did you actually read this far? Have a question? email me at jpray@prayfuneral.com.

Tuesday was more normal, for a funeral home.

Wednesday , Oh boy and it is only the middle of the week!

Thursday, what a strange day even for funeral service.

Friday, everybody else in the working world looks forward to TGIF, but if it is your weekend on call Friday is just another day.

Saturday Trying to balance a service, visitation and attending an open house for the neighbors graduation.