When I was a kid my mom used to have to drag me kicking and screaming to funerals. I would cry looking at the dead body. I would cry looking at the priest. The whole funeral process just creeped me out. It wasnt until I was in high school and was looking for a summer job that my mom told me she had a friend who needed some help and he would put some money in my pocket over the summer to do a few chores. I said great, What kind of business does he run? She told me he ran a funeral home.
The owner running the funeral home had been a friend of my parents and I for many years. I never imagined I would ever be employed at the funeral home. Knowing I was looking for work, however, and the home needing someone to work at a low rate, I went over to speak with the owner about working at the home.
I peddled my bike over to the funeral home the following day. Looking at the architecture of the building, I thought to myself, this could be somebodys home or a mini-church. There was nothing threatening about it. I stepped inside. My palms were sweating but I told myself to relax, there was nothing to fear. I walked around and noticed there were two parlors, each had a casket with a dead body in it. I walked into each parlor. I heard music in the background but I was the only one there. There was a lot of light coming through the opened windows and a nice breeze coming through. I said, I can do this. The funeral director stepped in, and I introduced myself.
The funeral director told me my job would consist of regular duties such as vacuuming the carpets, the placement of pray cards before visitors arrived, proper chair arrangement, along with various washing duties. He also told me I would have special projects. He said he would discuss special projects later but my regular duties were a top priority.
I pretty much had to run the vacuum at least three times a day. Usually once in the morning, once again around mid-afternoon after flower deliveries, and again after visitors and mourners left. The funeral director was very adamant that he didnt want to see a speck of dirt on the carpets. The vacuuming was very easy. But vacuuming near a dead body at 9:30 in the morning took a little getting used to.
In addition to keeping the funeral home itself clean, I also had to maintain the various cars owned by the home. These included the hearse that transported the casket with the deceased, the family cars in which the family and friends of the deceased rode to the cemetery and delivery vans. These all needed to be kept clean inside and out after each use. To this day I have vivid memories of cleaning the interior and vacuuming the hearse.
Probably the hardest part of my job was dealing with casket delivery. Caskets could arrive at any hour depending on when a family placed an order. They usually were delivered through the back of the funeral home, but sometimes a service was in session and we would have to bring them downstairs. Caskets are very heavy and I always needed assistance in picking them up and moving them. Plus you need to be careful that you dont bang the casket into a wall while you are transporting it. Nobody wants to see their loved one in a banged up casket.
Probably the hardest part was when families came to make arrangements. I had to be quiet and remain out of site. The same thing was true for when we had afternoon visitation hours. Respect for the families came first. This is when I usually washed the cars or did other outdoor chores.
After about two weeks of working in the funeral home, all of my fears had dissipated. I didnt blink when vacuuming next to a dead body. I could climb into the back of hearse with no problem; it was just another car that had to be cleaned. I really started to enjoy my job and the extra money I earned really came in handy later on as I was preparing for college. The experience of working in a funeral parlor actually helped me later on in life in coping with family tragedies; while its never easy, I think it made me stronger.
The owner running the funeral home had been a friend of my parents and I for many years. I never imagined I would ever be employed at the funeral home. Knowing I was looking for work, however, and the home needing someone to work at a low rate, I went over to speak with the owner about working at the home.
I peddled my bike over to the funeral home the following day. Looking at the architecture of the building, I thought to myself, this could be somebodys home or a mini-church. There was nothing threatening about it. I stepped inside. My palms were sweating but I told myself to relax, there was nothing to fear. I walked around and noticed there were two parlors, each had a casket with a dead body in it. I walked into each parlor. I heard music in the background but I was the only one there. There was a lot of light coming through the opened windows and a nice breeze coming through. I said, I can do this. The funeral director stepped in, and I introduced myself.
The funeral director told me my job would consist of regular duties such as vacuuming the carpets, the placement of pray cards before visitors arrived, proper chair arrangement, along with various washing duties. He also told me I would have special projects. He said he would discuss special projects later but my regular duties were a top priority.
I pretty much had to run the vacuum at least three times a day. Usually once in the morning, once again around mid-afternoon after flower deliveries, and again after visitors and mourners left. The funeral director was very adamant that he didnt want to see a speck of dirt on the carpets. The vacuuming was very easy. But vacuuming near a dead body at 9:30 in the morning took a little getting used to.
In addition to keeping the funeral home itself clean, I also had to maintain the various cars owned by the home. These included the hearse that transported the casket with the deceased, the family cars in which the family and friends of the deceased rode to the cemetery and delivery vans. These all needed to be kept clean inside and out after each use. To this day I have vivid memories of cleaning the interior and vacuuming the hearse.
Probably the hardest part of my job was dealing with casket delivery. Caskets could arrive at any hour depending on when a family placed an order. They usually were delivered through the back of the funeral home, but sometimes a service was in session and we would have to bring them downstairs. Caskets are very heavy and I always needed assistance in picking them up and moving them. Plus you need to be careful that you dont bang the casket into a wall while you are transporting it. Nobody wants to see their loved one in a banged up casket.
Probably the hardest part was when families came to make arrangements. I had to be quiet and remain out of site. The same thing was true for when we had afternoon visitation hours. Respect for the families came first. This is when I usually washed the cars or did other outdoor chores.
After about two weeks of working in the funeral home, all of my fears had dissipated. I didnt blink when vacuuming next to a dead body. I could climb into the back of hearse with no problem; it was just another car that had to be cleaned. I really started to enjoy my job and the extra money I earned really came in handy later on as I was preparing for college. The experience of working in a funeral parlor actually helped me later on in life in coping with family tragedies; while its never easy, I think it made me stronger.
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