The Life of a Funeral Director
As a little girl I always dreamed of becoming a funeral director. Literally. What I mean by that is that as far back as I can remember (even elementary school) I dreamt that I was attending funerals...but the eerie thing was that my view of the funeral wasn't from one of pews (or the casket, thank goodness-). I was always witnessing the funeral from the back of the church. As strange as this may sound I believe those dreams were God's way of pointing me in a direction I would otherwise never go.
I truely love my "job". If you were asked if being a mortician would be on your life to-do list, you would probably laugh and quickly change the subject.
I get to be a part of celebrating a life well lived. The families share with me hilarious stories, secrets (they thought they were taking to the grave) and wonderful memories (the good stuff hallmark cards are made from).
At my "job" I have laughed, cried, hugged and listened. And it was okay.
The difficult days are witnessing the emptyness, guilt, regret and the overwhelming emotions that come with grief.
As Steve Huston often said, "Grief is reaching out to someone when you need them the most and they're no longer there."
Going to work everyday reminds me that I am not promised tomorrow and sorry, life is just not fair. You have to tell people you love them because one of these days you won't be able to.
I have so many stories to share. Not all of them are mine, nor do they all stem from my home town (so dont waste your time trying to decide who's family I may be talking about). I will tell these stories with the upmost respect. Some of them are funny, some of them are unbelievable, some of them are sad but all are very interesting!!
~keep checking.... more stories coming soon!!!