I have a tendency to “over share”. I think that comes from having a passion for a subject. Anyone who knows me becomes subjected to a great amount of over sharing from me. Sometimes they get the uncomfortable over sharing topics, but sometimes they get an inside view point on things they never would have considered before.
I am extremely post-situational self conscious about discussions and conversations I have had with strangers, new acquaintances, and good friends. I have the ability to get right into discussion about any aspect of my passion, being funeral service and death care and ALL THINGS RELATED.
I am keenly aware our culture is in severe death denial. People are intrigued by my line of work, and I get a wide range of reactions from shock to awe, dramatic to disgusted. The curiosity is peaked, and I will usually get the question as to why am I a Mortician? My comedic answer is the phrase, “Because the dead don’t talk back” coupled with a blank stare and a raised eyebrow, which will elicit either a genuine giggle or uncomfortable chuckle from the inquirer. The reality is because it challenges me. I deal with many different people, with many different stories, on many different life journeys. I get to be creative, utilize my artistic side, and solve problems ranging from skin slip to scheduling. I have an avenue for the compassionate side of myself as someone always seeking the approval of others, but feeling the shadow of her own social awkwardness as a barrier to make connections easily. I am married to my career, and that’s perfectly alright for me right now. I love it.
Love is never easy. Love can consume you. I do get overwhelmed at times, but in the grand scheme of things, this happens to many of us. “Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all… Let it kill you and devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.”
With the great successes come the heartaches. I am surrounded by sadness, grief, confusion. Children die. Beloved grandparents die. Middle aged fathers drop dead of heart related conditions, and their women counter parts are developing cancers. Suicides, brain tumors, taking a final breath while sleeping… death will take us all, and it can be expected or sudden, tragic or relieving. I do not have a stone heart, to the contrary, I have a very tender heart. It is not uncommon for me to remember many of the dead I have encountered over the years and their stories. Tears have been shared and shed in a stealth manner. These memories stay with me, and the families I have cared for have always been heavy in my heart. But I regret nothing… I am where I need to be and developing into the human I should be. I write the closing chapter of a legacy, a life.