A Half-interview with a Funeral Home Director

One of the least talked about subjects in conversation is death - and with good reason. That which is macabre in subject is a taboo because of all of the horrid emotions and images it can conjure. Not only can it be devastating, its effects can be felt long into the future. The very thought of a loved one dying can stop your heart for a moment and make your stomach churn. However, there is a troupe of people that deal with death. As a matter of fact, they make their living out of the dead.

It started out as a school essay dealing with an in-depth research. Some were doing things on cancer caused by sun poisoning and steroids in sports and such, but I had recently come off watching the HBO show Six Feet Under. After watching the drama that ensued from the show, I made a decision that an interview with a funeral home director would be the best route to take to get the information that I needed. It became pretty engrossing as I continued my correspondence with a woman I will call "Mrs. H", though. It became an immersion into the depths of human emotion and sorrow. It was, in other words, quite sobering.

I started by asking her if it was even acceptable to ask her questions about the business over an e-mail and she agreed. The next day, she called me. After our introductions, I began to ask her some things that I had written down.

"So how long have you been in the business?" I asked her.

"My entire life really. I was born into the funeral business," she responded. I then asked her about some of the more superficial parts of the business like the process of casket selections and such and called it a day after about 30-45 minutes. I didn't really have too many questions after that, and I set out to work on the report. However, after a few days she sent me another e-mail asking me if I wanted another phone interview. I agreed, of course, thinking that she forgot something.

I could only come up with a few questions, but those eventually connected into something I wasn't quite expecting.

"So what was the strangest thing that has ever happened during a funeral?" I asked. "I understand if you aren't at liberty to talk about something like that," I quickly added. I didn't want to put my interviewee on the spot to make her uncomfortable.

"Hmm. Well, I can't really say that, but I can tell you about some of the requests we've had," Mrs. H. said. "We've had people who wanted to be buried with a deck of playing cards, their golf clubs," she stopped for a moment, I could tell she was thinking. "And their pets. It's actually against the law to be buried with artifacts, including their pets, in this state, though." I found that rather intriguing - someone wanting to be buried with golf clubs or their dog, but I can't really blame them. There are a few choice items I wouldn't mind taking to the River Styx with me.

"Do most funerals go over more or less uneventful and quiet, or..." I wasn't sure how exactly to phrase "or do people lose their minds?"

"The funny part is, about funerals, that about 90% of the time, it turns out that people come to a service to talk to other people. It becomes a little more like a social gathering," Mrs. H said. I found that fairly hard to believe, 90%. But I figured that if anyone would know, someone there in the funeral business for over 40 years would.

"Really?" I asked. She then went on to explain that a small percentage of funerals turn out to be somewhat difficult to attend. She recited stories about people clawing at the caskets, clutching onto the bodies, or bellowing. There were also times in which some people request being locked into the room across the hallway, because they are afraid of making a scene. "That's actually a little depressing," I said.

"Well...It's not to say that this business doesn't come with downs too, you know," Mrs. H half-laughed. I could tell she was serious, though. "It's hard not to come to terms with mortality - I mean we deal with it pretty much every day of our lives here," she started again. "It's hard actually come to terms with our mortality. Those of us who help those who die want to think that we'll be around forever to take care of them, when in fact we'll be going sometime. All of us have to die sometime, and the only question is who will be taking care of us after."

I thanked Mrs. H for such an insightful look into her business and she said she was happy to comply. The funeral home business is still a mysterious way to make money to me, but I think that after this interview and hearing it from the director herself helped me quite a bit. While it won't quite ease the wonder of what happens post-mortem, I can be sure that there will be knowledgeable and compassionate people like Mrs. H to take care of some of the business after I go.