LIFE IN A FUNERAL HOME

I would love to be able to include a photograph of the house where my husband spent his growing up years.  It was a typical house of seven gables – a mansion of sorts – within a decaying neighborhood.  During his childhood, this home had become a funeral business, run by his father and uncle for many years.  During the “glory” years, it was very successful and provided a good income for the two men and their families.  The upstairs living quarters became home for my husband’s parents, himself and his sister until both of the men passed away.

As you can probably imagine, there were stories to tell about that place, and my husband, the story teller lets his imagination run wild at times.  There were the jokes about “Folks dying to get in there,”Making grave mistakes,” and “Business is dying.”

Of course, his entire childhood was spent in trying to be quiet, respectful and not get in the way.  This exuberant, fun loving child often felt as though he was in a prison of sorts, but he made the most of it by finding adventure even in a place of solace and death.  Hide and seek for one – hiding in the organ room (not a place for human organs, but a musical instrument.)  He also got an early view of death and sadness.  He also learned about human compassion in times like this.

There are a million stories I could share about the funny things that happened there, but one of my favorites has to do with a biology lab Paul had in the basement of the building.  Being an artist and wanting to know how living things worked, he had a collection of snakes, frogs and other specimens to raise and study.

One morning, after feeding the snakes, he forgot to close the window well in which they were living, and unknowingly left for school.  That morning there was a funeral and in those days, there was a smoking room downstairs which allowed family and visitors to smoke.  In our world today, they would be shut down for sure.

The snakes escaped and made their way into the smoking room, where some mourning women were having a cigarette.  It was a chaotic moment and of course the end of Paul’s biology lab.  He then became interested in chemistry, which resulted in numerous explosions, causing a swift end to that interest.  No more, the mad scientist.

He never went into the family business – not because he couldn’t handle it, but because God called him to share his talents in other ways.  His family supported his decision.  I think they realized you can’t make someone into something they don’t want to be.  In my opinion, they made the right decision, because I certainly would not have made a good funeral director’s wife.

 

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About atimetoshare.me

As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
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11 Responses to LIFE IN A FUNERAL HOME

  1. Wally Fry says:

    I put TV in a mortuary once. In the room they worked in. They just covered their work temporarily so I could come do MY work. Sheesh.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I seem to recall “someone” shoving a cousin into an embalming room during visitation at a funeral. “Someone” got a spanking.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. oh my gosh—that is hysterical !!!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. My sister-in-law is a mortician and a minister. She marries them, embalms them, and buries them… hopefully not on the same day! Ruth Ann is a delightful, wise, and funny woman. Talking to her, you would never guess what she does for a living. I love her — I was going to say “to death” but that would be overkill. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

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