Don't think I'd have the stomach for it...
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Y'all, I've been through a few tough things in life. Most of us have. But...
Wife played for a funeral Thursday. I didn't know the gentleman, but I went to school with his brother, the doctor. And I knew his father, the doctor. And his other brother, the doctor. I even knew his son, the doctor.
How the guy escaped being a doctor and wound up as a simple mechanical engineer, then went back to school and became a lawyer, later becoming chief counsel for a $5B company is another story...And it took three family members and three more doctors to carry the poor body to the grave.
Needless to say, it was a wing-ding of a funeral. Everything from Bible readings to poetry to personal stories. Lasted durn near two hours.
Which sent the funeral home folks into frenzied conniptions. The long funeral was train-wrecking the florists, who were chomping at the bit to get into the chapel with an absolute van load of stuff. They were having to decorate the entire chapel, stem-to-stern, complete with balloon arches, Disney characters and thirteen flower arrangements in their van, with more on the way from the shop. And when they got through with this, they had two weddings to do, but this was more important so they did it first.
Not everyday do you have to hold a funeral for a healthy five year-old girl.
The family was on vacation in Texas. Pulled their camper over there and had set it up in a campground. Made a few trips around to see a few sights, did some strolling, usual vacation stuff. Let their kids play around the trailer...You know the routine.
The five year-old had one of those plastic battery-operated cars. She'd been playing with it, just like at home. I don't know if they took their eyes off of her for a minute or they just couldn't reach her in time, but she ran her toy car out in front of a 3/4 ton pickup. The man wasn't going fast. He was definitely poking down the campground road, but he just couldn't get the truck stopped fast enough, when she darted out around the trailer and right out in front of him. Crushed her on the spot and she died with her mother, her father, her siblings and one stranger who'll carry an unwanted burden the rest of his life.
That's tough. A mighty hard row to hoe.
But here's what I don't think I'd have the nerve to do...This funeral home has four local branches. Instead of doing their embalming and other work at each place, they have their caskets, morgue, etc., all at one place, then transport the remains in the casket (or urn, for those wishing cremation) to the location desired by the family. The little girl's body had not yet arrived, because her mother was busy.
Her mother was busy washing her little girl's hair and styling it, dressing her in her favorite outfit, helping to put on the funeral make-up and painting her child's fingernails. She wanted her to look her absolute best.
Now folks, I've trod through a morgue or two. Helped with many autopsies. Seen crispy critters, floaters and pieces of folks ran over by trains. Never like helping with kids. We used to do babies on a cutting tray in histology and I really didn't care for that. And I didn't know any of these people. Not usually.
I have a five year-old granddaughter and I can't think of any way on God's green earth that I could find the steel rod to shove up my backbone and work on her body in the cold room of a funeral home. Even if it was just helping to put on her clothes...I just don't think I could do what this grieving mother did...
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Hard to even read that with a 4 year old daughter, the sweetest soul you’d ever meet. Tonight she asked when Father’s Day is because she painted something and wanted to show it to me now. She’s now at the age where she can’t keep a present secret, ha. I told her it’s next weekend, she asked if that’s after Christmas? I said no it’s in six days, she asked does that mean it’s after bed-night? Which is a funny way she says “tonight”. Then she began counting the 6 days on her fingers. A bit of a ramble but as Brenda said…maybe there is a numbing routine to what the mother did that helped her ignore the reality around her. I don’t know, and I never want to find out. Don’t think I’d be able to survive that, to be honest.
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Wow!!! :disappointed: :cry:
