Death

Don’t worry, I’m going to write a post about the ways the funeral industry has succeeded.  But for now, here are ten ways we’ve failed.

One.  Disconnected from Community

This is where things start to go horribly wrong. If you don’t have a personal investment in the community, if you don’t love the customers you work for, if you don’t live around them, send your kids to the same schools, shop at the same places, you lose the accountability of love and connection.  Once that accountability is lost, death care ethics are on a much more slippery slope.  This is why — for the most part — local, privately owned funeral homes are more likely to retain their good name, while large, corporate funeral homes tend to be slightly disconnected and slightly more likely to see this as primarily a business.

Two.  Bad at receiving criticism

We’re notoriously bad at receiving criticism.  To be fair, nobody is good at it.  I mean, who likes to be told that we’re a bunch of racketeers over and over and over again?  I know I don’t.  Unfortunately, some of that criticism is true!  We’re good at listening to market changes, in fact, our funeral director magazines are packed with advice on how we can respond to our customer’s wishes, but when constructive criticism comes from a customer, most of us are too biggety to listen.

Three.  Intentionally Kept our Practices Hidden

God forbid we tell you what we do with your loved one.  God forbid we publically write about what we do with your loved one.  God forbid we blog about it (GASP!!!).

Four.  Pushed Embalming Too Hard

Embalming is THE American Way of Death, or at least it was The American Way of Death.  Yes, Jessica Mitford popularized that term with her book that holds the same title, but it was funeral directors who coined the term.  The term was coined in a response to criticism from religious circles that claimed embalming was a pagan practice (the Egyptians did it for religious, but not Christian reasons).  In response, funeral directors said, “No, embalming isn’t pagan, IT’S AMERICAN!”  But that America was the America of nearly 80 years ago.  America isn’t the same, but funeral directors still want it to be.   MAEA!  Make America Embalmed Again!

Five.  No Support System for Funeral Directors

This is on two levels: funeral directing — like many professions — started as a trade, where the apprentices were trained by masters.  Most states (all states?) still require a year of apprenticeship in order to gain licensure, but that apprenticeship needs to continue long after we become licensed.  We need mentors to walk us through this trade.  Two: we need support groups of some kind that can catch us when we’re falling from the burnout and compassion fatigue that too often comes with this line of work.  Currently, most of us have neither.

Six.  Too Often Erred on the Side of Business

We should be erring on the side of service.  This perspective changes the way we approach money, and it changes the way we approach people.

Seven.  Narcissism Checks

We’re called to be directors, to display confidence, knowledge, authority, and strength during people’s weakest moments. But this environment that asks us to lead can too often enable us to self-enhance. We talk over our heads, project authority in situations that are best left to the family and tense up in disdain whenever we’re questioned.  There needs to be better checks and balances in place to keep us from sliding towards narcissism.

Eight.  Too Much Professionalism

There’s not wrong with being professional.  In fact, funeral directors should embody respect, courtesy, and kindness.  But, professionalism says something more.  It makes a distinction between those who are the professionals and those who are amateurs.  Let’s be very clear about one thing: a funeral director’s education, a funeral director’s experience makes them good at helping families with their funerals, but LOVE, and only love, makes someone the best of professionals when dealing with their own deceased.  That is, it’s love, and not foremost education and experience, that gives you authority with a dead loved one.  In an attempt to embody professionalism, we funeral directors have stolen death care from the true professionals.

Nine.  Like Most Industries, WE NEED MORE WOMEN

Amen and amen.

Ten.  At times, we’ve failed you

Most of the women and men in the funeral profession are good, smart and service-oriented.  But some of us aren’t.  And even the good ones can fall into the traps of this business.  For that, we’re sorry.  We’re sorry if we’ve failed you.  We can do better.  We will do better.

If you’d like a personal, transparent view of what it’s like to be in the funeral profession, please consider supporting my writing by pre-ordering my book:

I wrote this blog post four years ago.  The photo I used in that post had wee little Jeremiah resting on my chest.  Four years later, and Jeremiah occasionally comes to the funeral home “to help dead people”.  Times have changed — for one, my hairdresser now trims my eyebrows — but these reasons have remained.

One: Service.

A couple years ago, a granddaughter was giving her grandmother’s eulogy at the funeral home.  She shared that before she would take naps at her grandmother’s house, her grandmother would warm a blanket in the dryer, and as the granddaughter laid down, the grandma would drape the warm blanket over her.

After the service was over and before the family closed the lid on the casket, I grabbed the blanket that the family had laid in the casket and warmed the blanket.  When I gave the warm blanket to the granddaughter, she couldn’t withhold her tears as now she draped it over her grandmother.

Situations like this arise regularly in the funeral profession.  And, as a caregiver by nature, I find great satisfaction in seeing others have more meaningful death experiences because of my efforts.  I enjoy serving.

Two: Perspective.

Emerson said, “When it is darkest men see the stars.”  We try our best to deny the darkness of death by consciously and unconsciously building our immortality projects.  We hope that we can live immortally through such projects.

And then death.  Weeping.  Our projects come tumbling down.  And it’s in those ashes, in the pain, in the grief, through the tears, we see beauty in the darkness.  This is a perspective that funeral directors are privy to view on a constant basis.  And, in many cases, the darkness can be beautiful.

Three:  Affirmation.

Being told, “You’ve made this so much easier for us.” or, “Mom hasn’t looked this beautiful since she first battled cancer”, or “You guys are like family to us” means a lot to me.  It’s important to know that what you’re doing is meaningful for the person you’re doing it for.

That verbal affirmation is a big reason why I continue to serve as a funeral director.

Four: Safe Death Confrontation.

When I was a child, I’d lay in bed and imagine myself dying at a young age.  I imagined Death as a Monster.  That fear, though, has dissipated as I’ve both worked around Death and I’ve grown to be comfortable with my own mortality and the mortality of those I love.

Perhaps there’s no greater freedom than to live life with a healthy relationship with Death.  That healthy relationship allows you embracing each moment, realizing that we are not promised tomorrow.  This good relationship with Death has been given to me by the funeral profession.

Five:  Kisses.

From old(er) women.  Big sloppy kisses from older women.  And what makes it even better is if they follow up the kiss with a, “If only I was 50 years younger ….”

Six:  Power and Obligation.  You give us power every time you open up your family life and your grief to us.   And when you give us that power, there’s a certain satisfaction that comes with treating that vulnerability with as much honor as we can.

We honor your loved one as we prepare them.  We honor you as we serve you.  The power you give us, and our obligation to that vulnerability is the grounds that produce honor.

Seven: Lack of the Superficial.

There’s so much BS in the world.  We pursue bigger cars, bigger houses and bigger salaries that we become so materialized we can barely stand honesty, vulnerability and spirituality.

That all changes around death.  Suddenly, you wish that the time you spent pursing that raise had been spent with your dad.  Suddenly, you find some honesty about your life, some perspective and maybe even some spirituality.

I hate BS.  I love honesty.  I love spirituality. And I love watching as death helps us become human.

Eight: Informs my Perspective on God.

Whether or not funeral directors are religious, you’ll find that almost all are spiritual.  Whether or not they believe in God, death has a way of making us look at the deep, the beyond and the transcendent.

For myself, so much of my faith has been informed by the doubt of death.  I see God in a whole new dark.  And it’s good.  In fact, I’ve come to believe that God dwells with the broken because – it would seem – God too is broken.

Nine:  Constant Challenge.

Somebody said, “It’s the perfect job for someone with ADHD because there is constant change.”   Constant change and constant challenge.

Whether a call at 4 AM; or a particularly tragic death; this job is always pushing us and (hopefully) makes us into stronger people.

Ten:  Our Associates.

Today, a nurse – on her own free time – tracked down the hospital release for us.  I told her, “You’re wonderful.”  Every time we interact with hospice nurses, I always praise them for their work, for their love towards the family.  When a church provides a funeral luncheon, I try to tell the workers that they are providing grace in the form of food.  When a pastor totally connects with the family, I tell him/her how great a job they’re doing.

When somebody dies – during the hardest moments of life – we see the best in people.  As I said in the beginning, sometimes the darkness is beautiful; and, sometimes the darkness makes us beautiful.

There’s many a burden to be borne in this business; which is why I have to remind myself of the reasons I remain a funeral director.

If you’re interested in how I’ve processed death and death care, you can shower yourself death stories by preordering this.  If you don’t like it, my mother promises to buy it back.