Showing posts with label respect for the dead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label respect for the dead. Show all posts

Friday, January 25, 2013

Valuing a Funeral Director


The True Value of a Funeral Professional

By: M-Gillies, MySendOff.com

In his 1884 novel, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain summed up the role of a funeral director. He wrote, “The undertaker, he slid around in his black gloves with his softly, soothering ways, putting on the last touches, and getting people and things all ship-shape and comfortable, and making no more sound than a cat. He never spoke: he moved people around, he squeezed in the late ones, he opened up passageways, and done it all with nods and signs with his hands. Then he took his place over against the wall. He was the softest, glidingest, stealthiest man I ever see, and there weren’t no more smile to him than there is to a ham.”

Mark Twain
 Twain was always known for his wit and satire but he also illustrated in another passage the role of a funeral director in the most sincere and candid way possible. He noted the professionalism, the deft integrity and the lengths one funeral director goes to serve his community. But more importantly, Twain explained how the funeral director, while indispensable, was also disregarded.

Over the years a funeral director has sometimes been bestowed the moniker of an emotionless, anti-hero type of character. But for those who have experienced the exemplary service of a funeral director in their time of need, they know that these professionals are actually unsung heroes and caregivers who have earned the respect from the families they serve.

Perhaps this incorrect stereotyping of funeral practitoners is because there has been little information presented to the general public of the true value of a funeral director – a value that extends far beyond just the listed price of service transactions. As a result, few people understand the full spectrum of services and benefits that funeral directors provide and because of this, some people mistakenly view the funeral process as just another service and commodity.

But for those who recognize the full range of compassionate services that a funeral director provides, they understand these death care professionals are individuals who should be respected.

Greg Lonsdale, Owner & Funeral Director at Telfords
It is the funeral director who answers the call of duty in the darkest moment of a family’s life and steps up ready to guide a family through the emotional roller coaster of saying good-bye to a loved one, all performed in a few short days. Few other professions work under these challenges.

The intrinsic value of the funeral profession are hidden within the intangible services that licensed funeral directors provide families. Their experience in understanding and navigating through the turmoil that death delivers to a family is part of the unwritten services they provide and these compassionate services are not shown on a funeral service contract.

For a funeral director, their tireless services are often called on in the middle of the night, because a family who has experienced the loss of a loved one requires immediate assistance that often cannot wait until the next morning.

Diane Turner, Funeral Director at Telford's 
Their confidence, calming presence and comforting words help families wade through the fog of death working as a guide who has walked the path countless times before. They listen to grieving families and encourage the sharing of memories of the deceased. They often provide a shoulder to cry on. They help with advice and take care of the smallest of details that the emotionally frail overlook. They provide options and help plan and organize a respectful funeral service based on the needs and wishes of the family.

They guide and direct families towards a path of emotional recovery by letting them know that it is normal and healthy to express their grief through mourning. They help build a supportive network that includes organizing the gathering of family and friends to ensure that the bonds of friendship and family are extended to others who also share their loss.

These services provided by a funeral professional are rarely seen by the public who show up at the funeral home to pay their respects and only see the results of the funeral professional’s diligent efforts to please their families.

It has been said that being a funeral director is a calling and a lifelong commitment and they are very often descendants of multi-generational experience. Attention to detail and excellent communication and listening skills are imperative.

Funeral professionals are composed and sympathetic and they act as confidants and accommodate the opinions of others. At times, they must act as a calm voice of reason during emotional disputes that arise between family members. They are proactive and prepared to attend to the needs of the grieving. The extent funeral directors will go to serve a family is nearly unlimited.

What a funeral director does is provide an unwavering commitment to see a family through a turbulent time. They are the practitioners of commemorating the dead through the combination of multiple traditions, rituals and religious doctrines. They are seen as promoters of positive emotional healing and with their funeral homes they’ve created a private, safe haven for families to find comfort in their grief and share their loss, free of judgment from outsiders.

Even in a day and age where cremation has become an alternative option for families, the role of the professional funeral director remains unchanged:

To serve the needs of their families and help reinforce the significance of a life lived by bringing together a collective group that helps promote the required healing through an organized showing of support and love. Through this all, it is the funeral director who ultimately bears the responsibility of making this happen.


As Twain explained about the undertakers of his generation, “they do it without praise, without complaint and without criticism” and today’s modern funeral director understands that their purpose remains unchanged from Mark Twain’s time: to help guide families through their dark times by creating a meaningful and respectful goodbye built on the foundation of integrity, dignity and respect.

Friday, December 14, 2012

WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE A MEMORIAL SERVICE


 
WHY YOU SHOULD 
HAVE A MEMORIAL SERVICE
Written by Marian Sewell

Once again, as I glance down the obituary column, wondering if any familiar names are there, I see a statement that occurs more and more often: "In keeping with Virginia's wishes, there will be no funeral service."

I am deeply disturbed by this trend. Ritual is the way cultures in all times and places have marked significant events in their community. Religious holidays like Christmas and Hanukkah carry traditions that have been around for generations. Babies are often christened or dedicated. We gather to celebrate the marriage of friends. Birthdays call for a cake and candles. Why would we allow the death of a loved one to pass without ceremony?

Rituals are not optional to a healthy culture: they tell us where we've been, they bind us together, they give us courage for the journey.

The ritual of the funeral or the memorial service has several purposes. First of all, it helps mourners recognize the loss as real. Sometimes a body is present at the service, often not, but always we know that we are there to acknowledge that someone has died, and to acknowledge the death not just in fact, but in feeling. We come together to grieve in the presence of a caring community, and for the time of the service we have permission to give ourselves to the experience of loss.

We also gather to celebrate the life that is now gone from us, to recollect and to remember, as in "to make whole again."  
 
"The service is a way 
of paying respect to the person 
who has died, one who has lived 
perhaps not a perfect life, 
but like the rest of us, 
a life full of hope and 
possibility and struggle. "
 
If it is done well, the service will bring at least a partial sense of closure to the void that one feels at these times. The purpose of all ritual is transformation: We come to the service in one state, we leave in another.

The service, then, exists for the living, not for the deceased. Virginia is really not the person to decide whether or not she should have a memorial service -- that is for those of us who remain, those who have loved her and lost her. What did she mean to our lives? What part of her legacy lives on with us? How do we wish to remember her? How does her life and death inform our own existence, as we pass through this darkling plain? As we think upon the life of the deceased -- its beginning, its course and its ending -- we are each led to think of our own lives, and to contemplate questions of mortality and meaning.


 
But what if Virginia was a difficult person? What if she was a narcissist, who didn't really pay much attention to her children? Or what if she was a raging alcoholic? Do we really want to remember her, to celebrate her life? Yes, we do, just as she was, in all of the various colors of her life. In my experience, problematic persons are the most difficult for the survivors to release in death.

These are the mourners who must now give up hope that the loved one will ever change; these are the broken-hearted ones who need to grasp a larger picture of the deceased in order to forgive and move on. A service can sometimes help them move in the direction of healing.
 
I have asked myself why so many people are now opting out of a funeral or a memorial service. One reason surely must be the embarrassingly bad services we've all been subjected to. Too often the minister takes the service as 
an opportunity to preach to  the numbers of unconverted he suspects may be attending. Or he may not know the deceased, and that lack of knowledge becomes evident in his remarks. Or the minister may attempt to console mourners by telling them that their loved one "is in a better place." This statement sounds hollow to people who are missing the one who died, and certainly is meaningless to those in the congregation who do not believe in an afterlife. It is understandable that many would decide not to have a service rather than risk the emptiness and disrespect they have experienced at other services they have attended.

Some people may decide against a service because they are not particularly religious and do not have anyone they can ask to officiate. B
ut 
 ...a ritual to mark the end of a life 
need not be traditionally religious at all...
 
It can be a simple gathering in a space large enough to accommodate those who might wish to be present, whether a public hall or a rented chapel or a home. If an officiant is not known, sometimes friends can suggest one, or the family may decide to structure a simple service themselves. If expense is an issue, or if the attendance is expected to be light, the family might opt to invite only relatives and close friends to a service in a home.

At a service, those attending will experience a "time apart": there may be soft lighting, candles, sage burning, flowers. Music is often an important part of the service, because it offers a ready avenue to the feelings. The same is true of poetry. Some will want to include scripture and prayer. Silence, so rare in our society, allows space for thoughts and feelings to emerge. And stories should be told, for narrative is how we remember and how we are able to continue. Humor always arises, as it is the flip side of grief. We laugh and we cry. We acknowledge that we are a part of the stream of life, and we assert our common humanity. We carry on.

 
 
The Rev. Dr. Marilyn Sewell is an accomplished Unitarian Univeralist minister, writer, activist and spiritual leader. She retired from parish ministry in 2009, after serving 17 years as the Senior Minister of the First Unitarian Church of Portland, Ore., and was named Minister Emerita. Marilyn is the subject of a full-length documentary film, "Raw Faith," which recently opened in N.Y. to critical acclaim.

Written by Marian Sewell http://www.huffingtonpost.com/marilyn-sewell/virginia-doesnt-want-a-me_b_903570.html