Red Felt Tip Marker
Tracy Lee • April 13, 2020
My life is probably different than yours. Everyone’s life is different from everyone else's, but mine really is different than most. I am a funeral director. My work is to deal with death every day. Most people do not deal with death every day. Most people do not want to deal with death every day. Funeral directing is my chosen profession. It can be a demanding profession. When I was an apprentice for my professional license, my proctor was a sagacious and kind man. He passed some wonderful pearls of wisdom to me, and I appreciated his insight.
One of the things he told me was never to let death take control of my life. When you work daily with death, you need a break from it. Funeral directors suffer from high rates of alcoholism and depression. They also have high rates of abnormal blood pressure and cancer. His suggestion was a yearly get away, two weeks vacation every year without fail, for stress relief. I have had my funeral home now for seven years, I have gone away twice for four days.
In 2013 there were 2,596,993 recorded deaths in America. (Medical News Today) There are 21,089 funeral homes to accommodate those deaths. If you were to divide those deaths evenly between every funeral home, each funeral home would process 123 deaths annually. That works out to approximately one death every third day. A funeral director spends an average of six days working directly with each surviving family and an additional two to three weeks on paperwork, aftercare, and grief work per case, spread out over approximately one year after the occurrence of death. If one funeral director had 123 cases that required three to four weeks of work annually, he/she would need 496 weeks to process his/her cases. Due to those impossible demands, funeral homes employ more than one funeral director.
Funeral directing is also a 24 hour, seven days per week job. A funeral director is on call and must be ready to serve a family whenever a loved one passes. I have experienced months where three hours of rest per night was a gift from heaven - two was more likely. I have worked with families experiencing suicide, multiple murders, familial murder, infant mortality, and many other horrific modes of death. I have seen senseless death, needless death, painful death, emancipating death, and many other types of death. I have seen families suffer through tragedies, liberated from abuse, writhe in guilt, and agonize through grief.
I live in a small town. When I go to the grocery store, I see my clients. I see those whose pain is hidden in their hearts, I see those whose pain is clearly written on their faces, and I see those who, although they try to mask it, experience renewed pain by the sight of me. As I walk down the isles, I see clients who have healed from their experience of loss. I also see those whose wounds are new, and they avert their eyes or duck into another aisle to avoid the pain my presence carries.
This past month was difficult for me. I suffered a virus that made me very ill. My doctor prescribed medication and called it into the local pharmacy. As I was weak and tired, my daughter offered to go to the pharmacy to retrieve my prescription for me. This afternoon as I entered my office, I found my medicine on my desk. The blue tag stapled to the bag, identifying my medication and the doctor's orders, had a message boldly written across it in red felt tip marker. Realizing it must be a vital message to be boldly written across the tag in red felt tip marker, I immediately read it.
“I hope U R having a great day! I love you to the moon and back!”
Below the message was a great big red heart drawn in the same red felt tip marker.
The note was unsigned, but I know who wrote it; a past client, and I love her to the moon and right back again.
My client has no idea of the impact her kindness has offered me. Her sweet note is worth two weeks of vacation any day of the year. It dulls the sharp edges of pain from the averted eyes of grieving clients at the grocery store. It lessens the bite from the expressions of those suffering such severe grief that they hope they never see me again at the conclusion of their services. It keeps death from taking hold of my life and dragging me into the pitfalls that bite at the heels of funeral directors, robbing them of their health and happiness. It gives me hope that one day my clients will recover from their losses and that seeing me will no longer torture their hearts.
My life is probably different than yours. Everyone’s life is different from everyone else's, but mine really is different than most. I am a funeral director. My work is to deal with death every day. It is a demanding job, but it has its perks. Sweet notes from sweet people make my life’s work bearable and worthwhile. I am glad I live in a small town where I see the people I help through the worst day life has to offer the living. I am glad they see me too.
The past two weeks have been difficult for me. I have suffered the loss of a dear friend and have served families that have suffered great losses. The COVID-19 pandemic has caused unwarranted loss, stress, and heartache to so many people this year. Not only have we lost loved ones, but we have lost our economy, our comfort, and our security as Americans. Everywhere I look, it seems that people are rude and uncaring toward each other when what we need is love. I wish we could be kind to each other, considerate to each other, and help each other through our difficulties rather than burning cities, burning businesses, and tearing apart what makes up great, our Union. Americans are the most blessed people in the world. We live in a time of convenience and wealth. Why is it then that we can’t add kindness and respect to our society? Why must there be murders and brutal attacks on innocent people walking down the street? I work with families every day who would give all that they have for just one more moment with their loved one to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” Time is so precious, but even more precious is the way that we treat others. For if we treat others with contempt, we will reap the bitter reward of hatred. Hate eats a person from the inside out, and no matter how hard a hateful person tries to find happiness, it will never come to them. I know this because I see it every day. A hateful heart has no room for happiness. Happiness only comes to those who love. Love is like light. Light is the only thing that is stronger than the dark. If you have a completely dark room and you strike a match, the light from that match will push the darkness away and light up the room. Conversely, if you have a room filled with light and you cup your hands to create a spot of darkness. As soon as you open your hands, the dark is gone. Light overpowers it just as love overpowers hate. Love is the only thing that is stronger than hate. If you strike an ember of love in the heart of someone full of hate, love will grow and overtake their hatred. In my profession, love is very important. I see all too often those who have pushed love aside thinking that they were winning an argument or for some other ridiculous reason. What I see when this happens is that at the end of life, those who were foolish and let hatred get the best of them suffer the most. They remain miserable for the rest of their lives. Don’t be one of these people. Don’t let hatred get the best of you. And most assuredly, let us not allow hatred to overtake our country. I don’t want to live in a world filled with hatred and discontent. I want happiness and love for all. I especially want love in your life when you suffer loss because believe me, when the grim reaper knocks, it’s too late to cry for one more moment to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” At that moment, the weight of hatred crushes every hope you ever had to make amends, to accomplish happiness, or to right any wrong you may have perpetrated. It’s too late and you are the person who will suffer the consequences of your vicious actions. You are the person who will have no friends, no love, and who will die alone; miserable because of your hatred and terrible deeds. I know because I see it in so many people who thought they could just make a statement, a judgment, or an action and not suffer the consequences. In the end, it’s the hateful people who suffer the consequences. They die alone without love or support. Their needs are not met and they writhe in misery. I lost a dear friend this past week. He was kind, loving, and good. He made the world a better place, and he made my life happier through his actions of kindness toward me. I wish everyone alive could have known my friend. Christ died to make man holy, and my friend John took up his offer. John was a holy man. He lived his life serving others, teaching others, and helping anyone who needed help. He was filled with love and he shared his love with those who needed it. If we could all be like John, the world would be an amazingly happy and beautiful place. John is gone and I feel the weight of his loss deeply in my soul. He leaves a legacy of service to our nation, service to Christ, and service to anyone who needed it. He was a good man, a great man, and now he is gone. I will have the honor of directing his memorial service in a few days. The church will be bursting as those who John served make their way there to express their sorrow and love for him. I will be one of those people. John’s legacy will continue in his absence because he ignited goodness, love, and service in the hearts of those about him. May we all understand and embrace John’s mission in life to serve and love our fellow beings. Doing so will bring us the greatest rewards. It will fill our lives with the greatest gifts on earth; joy, happiness, and love. This is my prayer for you, for our nation, and for the world during this time of uncertainty and discontent. Thank you, John, for being my friend, and my God bless you as you arrive home, never to suffer more, the pains of the world nor heartaches of men. Godspeed.
I received a first call late last night and was therefore at the hospital when I ran into an acquaintance of mine. As we spoke, she told me that her father had recently died. She began to cry and I offered to send over a set of my grief books (Mourning Light I, II, & III) to her office the following morning. I wrote her a sympathy card and delivered the books about 15 minutes ago. She had not yet arrived at her office, so I left the books and card with her secretary. The following is the note I wrote in the sympathy card. I thought I would share it, in hopes that it might help others who mourn as well. Dear Friend, February will be the 2nd anniversary of my grandson’s death. It is said that “Death is Final”; that is untrue. The pain and loneliness remain in my soul, and it feels as though I held his lifeless body, yesterday, in my arms. That day broke me; it almost killed me. Had I not had the love and support of my husband and children, I don’t think my sanity would have remained with me. The pain continues to crush my soul with anguish. There are 4 things that have helped me survive the debilitating pain of losing my grandson, and I wanted to share them with you in hopes that you might find peace in them as well. Prayer Prayer was, and continues to be, my saving grace. Without the love and promise of Christ’s redeeming grace, peace would remain unobtainable. Recounting my Experience Sharing my story out loud made it real. It took away my fear. It gave me power over the chaos of pain. Information As a certified grief counselor, knowing what to expect and whether it was normal or abnormal helped keep my worries at bay. The books that I have sent over are filled with information, plainly and simply written, to help you understand and identify the symptoms of grief, as well as recovery’s signs and secrets. Journaling Writing down my anguishes, thoughts, pains, worries, and fears helped me to let them go. I was able to organize myself, and it gave me hope for my future. I am sorry for the dreadful sorrow in your heart, and the pain that infiltrates your daily existence. I understand that breathing feels unnatural, it takes effort to continue on, and that peace eludes you. I wish that death did not exist, but it is a reality that the both of us know all too well; one that we must endure. I believe that families are forever, that we are all God’s children, and that we will reunite with our loved ones across the veil as we too, one day, experience death. Until that day arrives, however, I pray that you and I will live our lives as emissaries of Christ, basking in his grace, and recipients of his glory. I hope that as you suffer the loss of your daddy that you will feel comfortable in reaching out to others, and that you might call me should you need assistance. The pain of grief should never be carried nor suffered in silence, nor alone. Reach out and allow those who love and care for you to lighten your burdens. Life will never be as it once was, but it will improve as you share priceless moments of peace with those who remain by your side. I hold you in high esteem, and pray that Christ’s promise will grace your soul. With Deepest Regards, Tracy Lee My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am a Certified Grief Counselor (GC-C), Funeral Director (FDIC), published author, syndicated columnist, and co-founder of the “Mikey Joe Children’s Memorial” and Heaven Sent, Corp. I write books, weekly bereavement articles, and Grief BRIEFs related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award. It is my life's work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on, as well as educate adults in the needs of surviving children.