My eyes then moved right as I saw a delivery truck backed up and ready to offload. The truck’s logo bore the name of a well-known casket manufacturer of whom I’d been aware for close to 15 years now, today being 14 years to the day of my mother’s passing. The year before her death, my best friend and I had driven to two manufacturers’ sites in Texas, while I was studying the pricing, quality, and elements of exactly the kind of casket I wanted for Mom’s burial. As a good nerd, research is always comforting. Understand the unknown and it can’t flummox you later.
When you think about these topics early, it takes much of the emotion, grief, and trauma out of the equation. I wanted time to think about what I’d like, what I could afford, and what was available. As an only child, all decisions were up to me. Don’t feel sorry for me, because I had no one telling me I was “doing it wrong,” ha.
By the time my research and review of caskets was done, I knew the top manufacturers’ names, the model names of many caskets, the difference between various metal gauges, and other terms that don’t come up often in daily conversation. And I knew the pricing. When it came time to select Mom’s casket, I was well prepared and trusted Cody and his grandfather, Raymond, to make sure the casket of my choice would arrive on time. They did, precisely. It was exactly what I wanted for Mom, and it was beautiful. And then I forgot about all that, for 14 years in fact.
As some of you know, I now work for Callaway-Jones as their Certified Life Celebrant and Life Tribute Writer, so you think I’d be thinking a lot about caskets, but in fact I don’t. I think about life after death, about celebrating the life that meant so much to those they left behind, and on constructing services that provide healing and celebration of the best times of their lives. But Thursday afternoon was different.
As I stood there actually seeing the delivery truck back into position, time froze for a few minutes as I just watched something profound happen. I’ve known my friend and work colleague Catherine Ewing-Cates for over 20 years, and I know she’s been a Funeral Director for many years. But most recently I have thought of her as the manager of Restever Cemetery in Bryan, because that’s where I see her often.
But Thursday, Catherine was outside in the parking lot standing quietly until the driver had opened the bay of his truck and she moved forward with the carrier that the casket would be offloaded to. She greeted the driver respectfully and professionally, and there was no idle chatter. Both driver and funeral director offloaded the casket and transferred it onto the carrier with such respectfulness, that it reminded me exactly of the scene I’d seen many times on “NCIS,” when a military serviceperson is flown home to the United States and military personnel await the transfer of the casket. There’s a quiet reverence about that process. And yes, I've been known to shed a tear at the beauty of the ceremony because of what it means.
And Thursday, there was a similar stillness and solitude in that scene. In fact, neither Catherine nor the driver even noticed me watching them. They were doing their jobs so professionally, even when no one was (seemingly) watching. There was a beautiful cover over the casket, for protection during the drive, and yet another layer of secure covering after the cover was removed. Catherine handled that transfer with exactly the same level of respect as she would have, were there someone inside it. That just hit me as profound. It’s the parts of the world we work in that the public doesn’t see that are even more impressive than all the things you do see that cause you to have confidence in us.
Yes, it’s how we make you feel after losing a loved one that you remember most of all, but I really wanted to say that, even though I’ve seen many aspects of afterlife care that most of you have not, I’m really proud of the family team I work with, because I see what you can’t, and don’t, and it is truly as worthy of lifting up. Yet, there’s no standing ovation for honor and grace, although there really should be. At the end of the day, you can know you’ve done your job well, and served your families with total respect and appreciation because of all who see you doing that, but it’s who we are when no one is watching that I think is worth just as much merit.
I just took a few minutes again this afternoon to vote in The Eagle’s Reader’s Choice Awards 2019 contest. You can vote once a day through tomorrow. I’m proud that Callaway-Jones is in the Top 3 as best funeral home and that two of the Top 3 best funeral directors are ours, as well as one of the Top 3 receptionists in the competition. I may be biased because I work there, but I only work there because many years ago, I was their customer first. And my confidence in them has only become stronger with every day I interact with them.
I do so love “country living” in the middle of Bryan, Texas. I’ve got deer in my front yard looking for supper and a rooster and a hen strutting up and down driveways and parking lots out for a walk. It just doesn’t get any better than this. As we begin to prepare for Memorial Day weekend ahead next weekend, we remember and appreciate all the professionals whose work involves paying respects to those we’ve loved and lost. Their memories, and their love, remain with us forever.
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